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(Inscription over entrance.) 







MINE INHERITANCE 


By 

EMILY DAY ANT EMBREE 



THE COTTAGE HOME 
BELTON, TEXAS 






LIBRARY of CON6RE5S. 
Two Copies Receivoc 

DEC 26 : 907 

Onpyrigm entry 

P‘,* 7 <o WO? 

0LASS4 XXCi Wo. 




Copyright, 1907, 

By EMILY DAVANT EMBREE 


THIRD THOUSAND 


To 

My Father and Mother 
This simple story is 
lovingly dedicated 
by the Author 





Preface 


With us all, especially in our youth, there is a 
desire to measure mankind by the same rule, and 
decide that each individual is wholly good or bad. 

If we might look back of them and see the 
weakness or strength, the desire for immoral or 
upright surroundings that was handed down to them 
by their ancestors, perhaps our measurement would 
be less rigid, perhaps instead of condemnation we 
would find it in our hearts to offer a prayer, when 
we saw against what odds some fought before they 
fell. 

Because my first story has been so kindly received, 
I feel encouraged to offer this, hoping it may help 
some to be more loving in their judgment of others, 
and to remember that, had they been placed in the 
same circumstances, they might not have fought 
so bravely as the one they so readily condemn. 

And I pray, if this little story falls into the 
hands of some one who finds himself beaten in the 
struggle of life, that he may learn to look to H/‘m 
from whom cometh all strength. 

Emily Davant Embree 


v 


The First Introduction 


The richly deserved popularity of the first book 
of this gifted author, bespeaks for this one a glad 
welcome by all who love the natural, true and beau- 
tiful in character and life. 

Having a heart fired with a holy zeal for doing 
all possible good, the writer not only gives to the 
reading world another choice piece of literature, 
but gives it in such a way that the profits made 
from this book go to increase an educational fund 
for those who most need it. 

The picture herewith given represents the school 
home of a large number of college students who 
are unable to pay regular boarding rates, and 
many of whom have found their way to college by 
selling “ A Lesser Light,” the first book of this 
author. 

Each one who purchases a copy will join the 
writer of these books in her efforts to emancipate 
from the slavery of ignorance those whose lives 
must be dwarfed and useless, but for your help and 
hers. 

Ella Yelvington Ely. 
vi 


The Second Introduction 


This book is the result of a worthy ambition on 
the part of the author, to contribute something to 
the literature of the period in which she lives, and, 
at the same time, to give such a portrayal of the 
characters involved as will be helpful and inspiring 
to the reader. This is not intended to be “ a pop- 
ular novel,” in the usual sense of that expression. 
It is free from the commercial spirit so perceptible 
in some books which are written to bring to their 
authors great gain in a financial way. The appeal 
is not to the dramatic or sensational. The emo- 
tions and feelings are pure and simple, and the sen- 
timents worthy and true to nature. 

This book, like its predecessor, “A Lesser 
Light,” is to be devoted to the help of poor girls 
in securing an education, and to the creation of 
lofty sentiments and ideals which will bless woman- 
hood, honor God, and help humanity in general. 
From the sale of the author’s first book, many a 
worthy young woman has been helped to secure an 
education, to whom, otherwise the doors of oppor- 
vii 


viii THE SECOND INTRODUCTION 


tunity would have been closed. If, while helping 
the needy and deserving, our distinguished young 
author has contributed to our literature, a book 
which, in a little over a year, has attained the sale 
of many thousands, may we not hope that “ Mine 
Inheritance ” will meet a reception no less hearty 
and unanimous ? Those to whom the author is 
personally known, will bear witness to the fact that 
she exemplifies in her own home, and in her own 
life, those splendid ideals of Christian character, — 
womanly grace, exalted motherhood, and other 
feminine charms and endowments, so beautifully 
portrayed in her books. 

Following the teachings of her Great Master, 
she accepts and puts into practice the doctrine of 
his chief disciple, — that women are most honored 
by the distinguishing designation of “ Keepers at 
Home.” While revealing to us the better part of 
human nature, and the noble graces of Christian 
character, Mrs. Embree depicts no less vividly the 
baser emotions of selfishness, jealousy, cupidity, 
and such kindred evils as war against the soul. 

The ethical teaching of the book is most whole- 
some; its conception and literary merit, praise- 
worthy, its purpose and mission, most helpful and 
Christlike. 


THE SECOND INTRODUCTION ix 

The author has honored her Alma Mater by her 
constant self-sacrifice and devotion. The plot of 
this story is delicately interwoven into the sacred 
precincts of the dear old college of her girlhood. 
In coming years others will fill these classrooms, 
other voices will gladden her hallways, other 
daughters will go forth to honor her name. En- 
largement, equipment, endowment will come, we 
trust, but thou, dear daughter, hast come into the 
“ Kingdom for such a time as this,” — to help others 
and to make possible the u Inheritance ” of larger, 
richer, and nobler blessings for Baylor, for her 
daughters, and for all who shall read these pages. 

W. A. Wilson. 


Baylor Female College , 
Belton t Texas. 


The Third Introduction 


To re-introduce to the reading public a book, 
already twice introduced in words so beautiful and 
befitting, is a task at once difficult and embarrass- 
ing. However, these considerations are more 
than offset by others. I am constrained by a sense 
of the honor conferred, as well as by a desire to give 
public expression of a genuine admiration of and 
friendship for the gifted author, begun years ago 
in the class-room here, in the relation of teacher 
and pupil, and confirmed by subsequent recognition 
of her many virtues as wife, mother and Christian 
worker. 

One’s literary off-spring will as certainly be 
stamped with some of the features of the author, 
as the natural. So in this book one cannot fail 
to find delineated those noble traits which the 
author herself inherited from her gentle, well- 
bred parents, and which were later but intensified 
by her placing herself absolutely in touch with the 
best influences of her Alma Mater, Baylor College. 
Indeed, as has already been published, by the sale 


x 


THE THIRD INTRODUCTION xi 


of this book, she is but multiplying her philan- 
thropic self, enabling many dependent girls to 
equip themselves for successful Christian endeavor. 

She has infused her own spirit into the staunch 
heroine of her story, resolute, yet gentle and 
virtuous Mona. And so of the hero, who 
throughout is made the conspicuous object of the 
watch-care of God, who finally through devious 
ways brings David’s career to a happy and success- 
ful issue. And in no uncertain tone has she so 
portrayed the baser characters as to awaken in our 
hearts that hatred of sin which our righteous God 
himself so plainly avows. 

Mrs. Embree has lived the simple life. And 
while in this book so eminently fitted to impress 
for good the hearts and minds of the youth who 
are so fortunate as to read it, we have a story not 
complicated by an intricate plot, yet true in its 
delineations of character, and told in a style that 
attracts and sustains the interest from beginning to 
end. A good novel is not fiction pure and simple. 
To write one, requires the exercise of correct 
imagination and the ability to present the imagery 
in the garb of pure, refined and cultured words. 
Such an imagination “goes to the heart of things, 


xii THE THIRD INTRODUCTION 


is deep, earnest, and serious, and seeks always and 
everywhere for essential truth. ” 

Then go, little book, on your divine mission of 
uplifting the weak, cheering the despondent, 
refining the crude, purifying the gross, fortifying 
the tempted, enriching the poor, and extending the 
kingdom of Christ in the world. 

E. H. Wells. 


Baylor College, Sept. 31, 1907. 


Contents 


I. 

Preston House 




i 

II. 

John 




9 

III. 

Plotting . 





IV. 

Trouble . 




24 

V. 

Three Travelers 




30 

VI. 

The Strongs . 




37 

VII. 

David’s Little Girl . 




46 

VIII. 

Of Children . 




5 i 

IX. 

Deepening Shadows . 




58 

X. 

War 




63 

XI. 

The Man of the House 




74 

XII. 

Climbing . 




86 

XIII. 

A Turning Point 




96 

XIV. 

A Wager and a Secret 




103 

XV. 

For Mona 




”5 

XVI. 

Ralph Martin . 




127 

VII. 

Mona’s Trouble 




i 35 

XVIII. 

A Year’s Change 




*44 

XIX. 

Mrs. McArthur 




151 

XX. 

A Great Revival 




167 

XXI. 

The New Pastor 




179 

XXII. 

Commencement 




186 

XXIII. 

A Surprise 




196 


Xlll 


XIV 


CONTENTS 


XXIV. 

Changes 

. . 207 

XXV. 

How David Proposed 

. . 216 

XXVI. 

David’s Quest 

• 234 

XXVII. 

Getting Acquainted 

. . 246 

XXVIII. 

A New Friend 

. 251 

XXIX. 

Mona’s New Interest 

. 258 

XXX. 

A New Occupation 

. 277 

XXXI. 

David and Mona . 

• 

00 

XXXII. 

A New Home 

. 2 9 I 

XXXIII. 

A Long Talk 

. 303 

XXXIV. 

The Conclusion 

• 310 


Illustrations 


Cottage Home 
Preston House 
He was Fast Asleep 
“ Davie, Pm in Trouble ” 
“ My Own Little Girl ” 


Facing page 
vii 


/ 


6 S 

3 6 / 

. i io / 
. 286 X 


XV 







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Mine Inheritance 


CHAPTER I 

PRESTON HOUSE 

O N the western bank of the Mississippi, in 

the thriving town of H , there stands 

a stately old home, whose very walls whis- 
per of historic deeds. It is a typical southern home 
of the well-to-do class of people during slave time ; 
a type that is fast disappearing all over the South. 

There is nothing showy about this big square 
stone house, but there is an all-pervading sense of 
wholesome comfort, and unquestioned dignity. 
One feels it upon first entering the grounds through 
the low gate in the long rose hedge which separates 
the deep terraced lawn from the street upon which 
it faces. The impression of comfort and dignity 
deepens as you cross the lawn, made beautiful by 
smooth walks, well kept grass, and occasional flower 
beds of scarlet verbena or many colored petunias, 
while overhead the giant shade-trees with wide- 
spread arms invite the passer-by to their cool pro- 
tection from the summer heat. 


2 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Yet this goodly lawn is but the setting of the 
house to which we now come. First we stop to 
admire the broad verandas, the lower bowered in 
fragrant honeysuckle, the upper open to the view 
of the majestic river, which we will feast our eyes 
upon, some brilliant moonlight night, until our very 
senses reel under the magic spell of this lovely land- 
scape. 

But we must go in. We enter the wide cool 
hall and the first thing we see is the broad hand- 
some staircase. Above each landing of this stair- 
case is found a pretty niche, from which the stat- 
uary is long since gone, but in each vacancy there 
is painted a dainty landscape, the fancy of some 
former owner, so that you wonder if, after all, you 
should really regret the absence of the marbles. 

On each side of both upper and lower halls are 
great square rooms with high ceilings, massive 
folding-doors, deep windows and big, open fire- 
places. Just beyond this main building is the 
large well-ordered kitchen, and well back of that 
upon the hillside are the old slave cabins, filled in 
the present day by the families of the servants. 
When this home was built, the town was hardly 
more than a hamlet, and the proud young owner 
could scarcely find anything fine enough in all this 


PRESTON HOUSE 


3 


land to adorn his home for the queenly bride whom 
he brought to rule it. Right well did she rule. Joy- 
ous days passed swiftly, marred only by one shadow. 
The three children who came to this favored pair, 
as the years went by, were daughters. 

Because the name of David Preston had been 
handed down to the eldest son for generations, the 
young father had vowed in a rash moment that 
none but a David Preston should inherit his beau- 
tiful home. 

At last there came a day when a son was born. 
The father’s joy knew no bounds. The child 
proved wilful from his very cradle. His father 
would not allow him to be controlled, declaring 
with evident delight, as he thought of the broad 
plantation and numerous slaves the child would 
inherit with the family name and home, “ My son 
is born to rule.” A little later he did not hesitate 
to boast in the child’s presence that his son could 
not be conquered. Naturally, as the boy grew 
older, he gave his parents many an anxious day 
and sleepless night, though they proudly preserved 
a smiling exterior, and the father comforted his 
wife with — u Oh, he is just sowing his wild oats. 
He will settle down before long.” 

The daughters married early, as was the custom 


4 


MINE INHERITANCE 


of those days, and the youngest went to grace her 
new home, in a distant state, just before young 
David was sent away to school. The father and 
mother had scarcely had time to rest from all the 
excitement and grow lonely, when young David 
appeared with a girl of coarse florid beauty, and 
announced that he had married and brought home 
his bride. 

It was whispered that there were stormy times 
at Preston House over this, and in a few weeks 
young Preston and his wife were sent to make 
their home on one of the plantations, the father 
vowing in his wrath that no such woman should 
ever become mistress of his home. The mother 
quickly passed away after the fall of her idol. 
With the living, things went from bad to worse, 
and the breach between father and son daily grew 
wider. 

The father lived on alone with the family serv- 
ants, in the home he had hoped to enjoy in his old 
age. 

Young David Preston awoke to his lost oppor- 
tunities and tried to make the most of what re- 
mained to him. Procuring a good library, he 
devoted a large portion of his leisure hours to 
close study. In his wife he found a temper more 


PRESTON HOUSE 


5 


violent than his own, a will that he did not care to 
oppose, and a coarseness to which he had previously 
been an utter stranger. From a wild, careless youth 
he soon developed into a stern, quiet man, of whom 
most people stood in awe. 

Three sons came to his home and, had his wife 
been a wiser woman, the breach between father 
and son might have been healed and her husband 
restored to his old home. But she vowed, that if 
her father-in-law would not accept her, no child 
of hers should even bear his given name. There- 
upon the old gentleman haughtily announced that 
none but a David Preston should inherit Preston 
House. But she carried the day and named her 
children as they came for her own people. 

The eldest, John, inherited his father’s proud, 
imperious will, with a certain low cunning from 
his mother. 

The second son was a comely child and was 
given the mother’s maiden name, Giddings. To 
his parents’ great dismay, he retained the effect of 
a fall in infancy and, though his body developed 
into that of a strong healthy youth, his mind re- 
mained the mind of a little child. The youngest 
son, Richard, was the pet and plaything of the 
house, sunshiny, loving, amiable, making his way 


6 


MINE INHERITANCE 


into all hearts; but with no strength of character 
he soon became the tool of his brother John. The 
child could scarcely talk plain when his mother 
died. 

A few years passed quietly on the plantation, 
then a reconciliation was effected between the 
older and younger David Preston, and the latter, 
with his sons, returned to his father’s house. 

It was not long until the younger man brought 
a second bride into the old home ; this time a 
gentle dainty creature whom he had known all her 
life. She was an orphan with only one possession 
of material value — a grown man slave. But this 
mattered little to the wealthy Prestons, for she had 
the bluest blood the county afforded, flowing in her 
veins, and though not much older than her oldest 
stepson, she was not counted too young for the 
younger David Preston, who was now in the prime 
of life and still exceedingly handsome. 

The old father was delighted with his son’s 
second wife. He had sadly missed a woman’s 
hand in his home through all these years. u This 
one is good stock ; blood always tells,” he assured 
himself over and over again. So he received 
Martha Preston with open arms and succeeded in 
adding a great deal to her peace of mind. For 



PRESTON HOUSE 


A j. v * 






PRESTON HOUSE 


7 


with his father and grandfather both on her side, 
even crafty John, who had set himself against her, 
dared not trouble her openly. 

Though possessing a handsome home and all 
the luxuries the time afforded, yet as the months 
slipped into years, the face of this sweet, refined 
woman grew unmistakably sad. Her friends de- 
cided she had married and gone into the Preston 
home out of sympathy for the family’s past 
sufferings. Those who envied her, whispered 
that she had married David Preston for his wealth. 
Of both these opinions she was equally ignorant. 
She truly loved her quiet husband, and longed with 
all the eagerness of a warm tender nature for the 
caresses which he thoughtlessly withheld, until she 
came to believe that he had married her because he 
needed a wife, rather than for any special love he 
bore her. So she stilled her heartache and did her 
duty as best she could, until all but John loved her 
more devotedly than she could realize. 

After a time there came to her the joy of mother- 
hood. She too had a son, a beautiful baby with 
solemn, wondering dark gray eyes. Because she 
longed to please her husband, as well as his kindly 
old father, whom she had known and loved from 
her childhood, she immediately named her treasure 


8 


MINE INHERITANCE 


David Preston. On the selfsame day the de- 
lighted grandfather made his final will leaving his 
home and the greater part of his property to this 
youngest grandchild, at its fathers death. In case 
the child died, the mother was to become its heir. 
The remainder of his property was to be equally 
divided among his other heirs. Two years later 
the old gentleman peacefully went to his final 
sleep, holding the hand of this idolized grandson, 
and his son became master of the Preston estate. 

The year which followed was a hard one for 
Martha Preston. Her husband was much away 
from home, engrossed in the business left in his 
care, and the burden of managing this complicated 
family fell upon her. To this was added greater 
unkindness and insolence on the part of her eldest 
stepson. 

John, taking advantage of his father’s attention 
to other matters and the absence of the restraint 
laid upon him by his grandfather, and knowing 
that his stepmother would not make complaint, lost 
no opportunity of annoying her. 


CHAPTER II 


JOHN 

I T was a dismal November afternoon. All 
day the rain had drizzled without cessation. 
Every living thing, both plant and animal, 
seemed to have but one desperate purpose, to re- 
treat as far as possible from the chill insinuating 
dampness. The year was growing old and 
crabbed. To-day it decidedly had the blues. In 
the Preston sitting-room, all the family were 
assembled except the father, who had ridden away 
soon after the noon dinner. 

Martha Preston looked unusually pretty in her 
dark red house-gown with its bit of lace at the 
throat and wrists. She was one of those women 
for whom lace and, in fact, all soft dainty things 
seem peculiarly fitted. The dark red of the dress 
gave a soft glow to a naturally pale cheek. The 
fine abundant dark hair waved lightly over the 
temples, and her clear-cut sensitive face stood out 
like a cameo against the window drapery. On 
looking at her carefully a close observer would tell 
you that every movement, every feature, indicated 
9 


10 


MINE INHERITANCE 


an exceedingly sensitive, delicate, nervous or- 
ganization, which the calm serenity of her face 
wholly belied. Evidently her calm was acquired, 
not natural. In her dark eyes there was a sad 
wistfulness, and perhaps the head drooped a trifle 
wearily. She did not heed the group about the 
big cheery fire, her whole attention being given to 
watching for her husband. 

On one side of the fire sat Giddings, called 
Gid for convenience — a big broad-shouldered 
youth, the very picture of health, yet possessing 
such a strange childish face. His forehead was 
high, and shaped like his father’s. Between the 
clear blue eyes was such a wideness as to render 
his appearance peculiar, nor was this peculiarity 
decreased by a slight hollow over his left eye, just 
in the edge of the straight yellow hair. His skin 
was as clear and rosy as an infant’s, and the red 
lips, which outlined the large good-natured mouth, 
were usually parted in a simple happy smile, 
though at times, it took but a trifle to rouse a 
violent temper. Then woe to the offender, if he 
did not possess the agility to escape, for what 
Giddings lacked in brain he more than made up 
in brawn ! 

Upon the rug, stretched full length, lay the 


JOHN 


1 1 


happy-go-lucky Richard, gazing dreamily into the 
fire — a slender bright-eyed lad singularly unlike his 
brothers in appearance, and more like his father 
than any one else, yet entirely lacking either stern- 
ness or dignity. 

Opposite Giddings, opposite in more senses than 
one, sat the low-browed cunning John. Just now 
he was busy, as he frequently was, teasing Baby 
David, a child some two and a half years old. 

w Bruver Don, quit ! ” he finally commanded, 
fixing his big gray eyes upon that individual, with 
all the fierceness that his baby face could muster. 
John laughed, a low mocking laugh, and continued. 
The child said no more, but reaching up a firm lit- 
tle hand, he pulled his brother’s nose with all his 
strength. 

Even in his anger at the child’s audacity, John 
did not move to resent it, without glancing first at 
his stepmother to see if she had noticed them. 
Finding her otherwise occupied, he deftly struck 
the child’s arm against the brass andiron, while ap- 
parently bending over to stir the fire. 

Instantly there was a shriek of pain, and before it 
had ended, Martha Preston was beside him and had 
caught the child in her arms. 

“ Bruv-Bruver Don burnt m-me, cause I pulled 


12 


MINE INHERITANCE 


his nose,” sobbed little Davie on his mother’s 
shoulder. 

She looked quickly at John who as promptly 
denied the charge, but the look of triumph in his 
close set eyes belied his words. At this junc- 
ture, Giddings sprang to his feet. Pointing his 
outstretched hand at John, he shouted excitedly, 
“ I say, Muth-Martha, he did burn Davie, ’cause I 
saw him. He pushed him on the andiron, I say he 
pushed him.” 

Giddings stood waving the outstretched arm for 
some seconds with the accusing hand still pointed 
at John, evidently pondering in his poor bewildered 
brain, whether it was necessary for him to say 
more. 

The scowl that John gave him was not lost upon 
Martha Preston as she deftly slipped back the 
sleeve of the little sufferer and examined the burn. 
There it was, upon the tender delicate flesh just 
below the elbow, a small five-pointed star, a terribly 
perfect copy of a star standing out low down upon 
the front of the tall brass andirons. With pale 
face and flashing eyes she turned to John and said, 
in a low, steady voice, u I have borne much from 
you, John, but you had better never let anything of 
this kind happen again.” Then she carried the 


JOHN 13 

child to her room, where she finally relieved his 
suffering, and at last soothed him to sleep. 

When she came down again it was dusk. Her 
husband was standing before the fire. John sat 
where she had left him, and she heard Giddings 
say, as he stood with outstretched arm and waving 
hand as before, u I say, father, John burned 
Davie’s arm er while ergo.” 

The father without a word turned to John for 
an explanation. 

The latter’s eyes fell and shifted uneasily, be- 
neath the stern gaze, but he said very naturally, 
44 It was an accident, sir. I started to stir the fire 
and he struck his arm against the andiron. He was 
sitting on my lap.” 

u Did you see it, Martha ? ” inquired the man 
turning as his wife entered the room. 

“ No,” she responded, in a low reluctant tone. 

44 Is it a bad burn ? ” he questioned next, eyeing 
her keenly. 

44 1 fear so,” she answered hesitatingly. 

44 Where is he ? ” came finally. 

44 Asleep.” 

The father slipped quietly up-stairs and presently 
returned with a heavy frown upon his brow. 

John watched him furtively all the evening, but 


14 


MINE INHERITANCE 


nothing more was said, except in sympathy for the 
child. John gradually recovered his composure, 
though he had really shown no more anxiety or un- 
easiness than could have been expected, if the 
whole thing had been an accident. It was quite 
probable that he had no intention of inflicting such 
severe suffering upon the little brother, for whom 
he really cared as much as his selfish cruel nature 
and his dislike for his stepmother would permit. 

But before the flashing eyes of Martha Preston 
and the knowledge that she read his cowardly face 
like an open book, his former dislike changed to 
fear and hatred, which swallowed up every kindly 
feeling he might have possessed for her child. 

She was a good woman, and though she endeav- 
ored to keep her baby away from him as much as 
circumstances would permit, after a trifling cool- 
ness, she treated John in just the same kindly man- 
ner as before. 

He preserved a smiling exterior, but his cold cal- 
culating hatred was simply waiting an opportunity 
for revenge. 

His opportunity did not come, however, for some 
months. 


CHAPTER III 


PLOTTING 

I T was a sunny day in spring. The trees 
waved their garments of glossy dark green 
leaves and pale tender buds joyously in the 
gentle south breeze. The verbena bed flaunted its 
gay scarlet blossoms boldly in the sun, and the 
honeysuckle on the veranda filled the entire house 
with its gratifying fragrance. 

Inside, Martha Preston was busy putting her 
house in order. u Yellow Jinnie ” had already 
swept, and her turbaned head could be seen bob- 
bing comfortably along as she led Davie up and 
down the smooth front walk, while his mother was 
dusting and arranging all the little things about the 
house, that could be trusted to no hand but her 
own. 

Up from the kitchen floated the dolorous wail of 
some disconsolate camp-meeting hymn, as M Black 
Jinnie ” cleared away the breakfast dishes. 

In the sitting-room doorway stood M Uncle 
Bill,” uneasily twirling his hat in his hands. His 
i5 


i6 


MINE INHERITANCE 


was a low stocky figure, and above it rose a round 
pleasant face. Across his cheek was a scar, which 
to him was no disfigurement, but rather a mark of 
proud distinction, because long ago, when Miss 
Martha was a baby, he had gotten it in saving her 
from danger, and Miss Martha was the idol of his 
faithful heart. 

To him she was something more than mere 
woman. Her slightest wish was the law of his life. 
From her babyhood she had ruled him, with a gen- 
tle hand, it is true, but she had ruled supremely. 

Now he had news for her, his beautiful “ Mis- 
tiss.” 

He shuffled from one foot to the other, but 
Martha, busy with her own thoughts, and having 
her back to him, did not know he was there. 
Twice he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it 
again without a sound. Finally he cleared his 
throat, at which she turned quickly. 

“ Why good-morning, Uncle Bill,” she said 
cheerily. 

u Morning Mistiss,” was his slow greeting. 
She looked at him curiously, for she saw at a 
glance that something was amiss. She made no 
comment, however, knowing that he would tell it 
more quickly if not interrupted. 


PLOTTING 


l 7 


“ Missie ” 

This was his pet name for her, and she instantly 
knew from his tone that it was her trouble he had 
come to tell. “ Missie, I ’spect you better fix the 
baid. Marse David say he not feeling right well 
this morning.” 

He paused a moment, then glancing uneasily at 
her face, he went over and placed her a chair. 

w Sit down, Missie, a little while, an’ Til tell you 
’bout it. You see thet new hawse , 4 Shotgun,’ is 
kinder wild an’ Marster rode him this mawnin’. 
He seemed to get scared, sudden like, when Marster 
wan’t noticin’ and — and — he hurt Marse David, a 
little. I ’spec he’ll want to lie down when he gits 
here.” 

44 How is he hurt ? ” Martha questioned very 
quietly. She was a trifle pale, though to a stranger 
she would have seemed rather indifferent. But 
Uncle Bill knew better. He noticed that her tone 
was lower than usual, and that her hands were 
tightly clasped. 

44 Why, Shotgun fell on him, but,” coming a step 
nearer, 44 don’t you worry, little Missie, honey ; 
he’ll be all right when he rests some.” 

But Martha knew from the hopeless pitying 
tone, that things were more serious than Bill had 


i8 


MINE INHERITANCE 


represented them, though she said, w All right, 
Uncle Bill ; ” and went to prepare for the sufferer. 
Bill followed her and seemed to know instinctively 
what she wanted, and helped her with every prepa- 
ration, though not a word passed her lips. 

“ Here come Pete and Big Sam with him now,” 
announced Bill presently ; and as he spoke, the two 
stalwart negroes bore their insensible master in at 
the open doorway. It was Bill who showed them 
where to lay him ; it was Bill who helped Martha 
to undress and care for him until Pete brought the 
doctor; and through the dreary days and nights 
which followed, it was Bill who helped his “ Little 
Missie ” so faithfully with the nursing. The house 
was turned over to faithful u Black Jinnie ” ; little 
Davie was entrusted to “ Yellow Jinnie’s ” care; 
the three older boys were left to their own devices, 
while Martha Preston hung anxiously over her 
slowly dying husband. 

In this hour of trial, there came one ray of com- 
fort. In his delirium David Preston coupled every 
endearing epithet in his vocabulary with her name, 
stroked her hair or face, and filled her aching heart 
to the brim with the tenderness she had so long 
craved. Just before his death consciousness re- 
turned, and drawing her brown head down close be- 


PLOTTING 


19 


side his black one, he looked long at the sweet, sad 
face and whispered, “ You are more to me than all 
the world beside. I never knew real happiness 
until I married you. Stay here, dear, and take care 
of them all for me. Teach little David to love and 
respect you for his father’s sake. God bless you ! 
You alone have made Him real to me.” 

With that he was gone and she was left with a 
heavier burden upon her delicate shoulders. 

John had moved about restlessly through his 
father’s illness. Finding there was little hope of 
the latter’s recovery, he searched for his grand- 
father’s will. He did not admit, to himself, that 
he wished to destroy it. He persuaded himself 
that he would only hide it, and by so doing taste 
the joy of being master of the house and at the 
same time have revenge upon his stepmother. 
Failing in his endeavor, on the forenoon before his 
father died, he wandered restlessly along the river 
bank, wondering what changes the next few days 
would bring. He gave little heed to the beauties 
of the fresh clear morning, nor was he as much 
absorbed in grief over the thoughts of his dying 
father as one would have expected, except in so 
far as it concerned his own comfort. 


20 


MINE INHERITANCE 


As he strolled along, a beautiful butterfly lit on 
his hand, its dazzling wings quivering and shim- 
mering in the morning sunlight. Almost instantly 
his hand closed and crushed the pretty emblem of 
frivolity ; then he flung it aside. An exclamation 
made him start, and looking up, he saw a woman 
standing near him. Her eyes, her hair, and her 
homespun dress, all seemed to have been washed 
by the same laundress and all to have faded to the 
same nondescript hue. Her face was tanned and 
roughened by exposure and her hands were hard 
and brown. From one corner of her mouth hung 
an unmistakable toothbrush, and in her hand was 
an open snufF-box, which she had evidently for- 
gotten to put away. 

“ Did you speak to me ? ” questioned John care- 
lessly. 

“ No, I was just wondering what you killed hit 
for,” she replied. 

“Well, why shouldn’t I kill it?” he asked 
with a mocking smile, as he glanced contemp- 
tuously down at the poor little dead thing. 

“ It was purty and it didn’t do you no harm,” 
she answered turning away. 

“Are you camping here ? ” questioned John, as 
he pointed to an old wagon and a camp-fire a few 


PLOTTING 21 

yards away, which, in his preoccupation, he had not 
noticed before. 

“ Yes, we came here last night,” was her an- 
swer. 

“ Who is with you ? ” 

“Just me and my old man, that’s all. We hain’t 
got no children, and we are on our way to Texas.” 

For the want of better entertainment, John 
walked on with the woman to where her husband 
sat upon a fallen log. On reaching the man’s side 
John accepted an easy-going invitation, and sat 
down upon the log beside the shaggy-bearded, un- 
kempt stranger, and by way of opening a conver- 
sation, said : “ Your wife tells me you are on your 
way to Texas.” 

“ Yes, we’d a been there long ago if thar was any 
way for a feller to make anything as he went 
along.” 

Then began a rambling account of his difficul- 
ties, to which John listened impatiently, wonder- 
ing why he had stopped, until suddenly an idea 
occurred to him which made him spring to his feet 
and pace restlessly up and down in front of the 
man. He scarcely heeded the long tale of misfor- 
tune as he rapidly turned his own plan over in his 
mind. Presently, he paused before the speaker, 


22 


MINE INHERITANCE 


and the latter stopped his wandering remarks and 
looked up with a half inquiring, half hopeful ex- 
pression upon his listless face, as John said, “ Do 
you want to earn some money ? I have a little 
money of my own, and Fll pay you twenty-five 
dollars to do something for me.” The man eyed 
him greedily with his beady eyes and grunted his 
assent. 

John paused irresolutely, looked his listener over, 
and deciding that he was well fitted for the pur- 
pose, he added, w There is a little boy in my way at 
home. If you will take him so far away that he 
cannot come back, and let no one see or know of 
him, Fll give you twenty-five dollars.” 

“ Huh, that wouldn’t take keerof the brat long,” 
declared the man disdainfully. 

u Well, that’s all I have now, but if you will 
take him for that, I’ll send you more just as soon 
as I can,” promised John. 

The stranger, who intended taking the first offer 
if he could do no better, with seeming hesitancy 
asked, w Whar would you send it ? ” 

“ I thought perhaps you could tell me a place to 
send it, and Fll send all I can,” suggested John, 
anxiously. 

u Yes,” assented the man, after a moment’s 


PLOTTING 


23 

thought, “ that will do,” and gave his address at a 
small town some distance down the river. 

“ Very well, I’ll bring the child, with the money, 
as soon as I can after dinner, if you can be ready 
to move by then. You see, you’ll have to leave at 
once and get as far as possible on the road before 
he is missed,” declared John. 

w S’posin’ they ketch me ? ” inquired the in- 
tended kidnapper. 

u Hide him in the wagon if you can. If they 
do see him, claim you found him wandering along 
on the river bank,” suggested the ready John. 


CHAPTER IV 


TROUBLE 



INNER over, John was setting himself to 


devise some means of escaping unnoticed 


with Davie, when the old family phy- 
sician joined him in the lower hall, and said, with 
all the authority of his position in the family : 

w John, you boys had better not leave the place 
this afternoon. I don’t think your father will live 
until dark,” and then, because the dying man was 
his nearest friend, he choked and walked away. 

The young man replied, “Very well,” and, 
in secret dismay, strolled out across the lawn. 
Presently he espied Richard back near the smoke- 
house, playing with Davie. He joined them and 
said in a low tone, w Dick, I’ve got to stay here. 
You get David down behind that big wood-pile and 
when you are hid behind it, take him and go as fast 
as you can to the river. Go up the river and you 
will find an old rattle-trap wagon. Give David and 
this little bundle ” (a paper containing the money) 
a to the man. Then come back as quick as you 
can, but don’t let anybody see you. Don’t let 
24 


TROUBLE 


*5 


anybody here know that you have seen me, be- 
cause the doctor said for us to stay here. He says 
father will die in a few hours.” 

Richard stared at him a full minute, in blank 
amazement. 

w Idiot,” ejaculated John, under his breath. 

“ I’ll not do it,” began Richard stoutly enough. 

U A11 right, you’ll be sorry, you little ninny,” 
snarled his brother with an ugly look upon his face. 

“ Are you going to hurt Davie ? ” questioned 
Richard wonderingly. 

“ Of course not,” declared John in affected 
surprise. “I don’t want him hurt; I only want 
him out of the way a day or so.” 

“You are trying to worry Mother Martha, and 
I don’t think we ought to do it, especially when 
she is in so much trouble already,” said Richard in 
an anxious tone. 

“ Oh, come now, Dick, don’t be a fool, and a 
coward. I know what I am doing. I am not 
going to hurt anybody bad. You are silly about 
that woman. You let her just wind you around 
her little finger. You haven’t sense enough to see 
that she gets everything on the place for herself 
and her brat by her c softy ways.’ ” 

“Well, you remember you burnt him once and 


26 


MINE INHERITANCE 


hurt him pretty bad and then made me get out of 
the way so father wouldn’t think to ask me about 
it,” retorted Richard. 

“ Oh, well, I didn’t mean to hurt him much 
then, and I am not going to hurt him at all now. 
You just do what I tell you and I’ll see that it 
comes out all right.” 

Richard from long habit of yielding to John 
turned reluctantly to his task. 

John watched him coax the child away to the 
wood-pile, and heard him there propose a walk, to 
which came a gleeful assent. Then he rambled 
back to the house saying to himself, u That’s bet- 
ter; David will go with him quicker than me any- 
way, and it will be all the harder in case of acci- 
dent to trace the thing back to me, for I can make 
Dick keep quiet.” 

It was warm and the walk was too long for the 
child. By and by he wailed fretfully, “ I so tired, 
Buver Dickie, es do home.” 

Richard took him tenderly on his shoulder and 
carried him. It being time for the child’s nap, he 
soon fell asleep, to poor, miserable Richard’s in- 
tense relief, for he loved the little fellow and 
dreaded leaving him in this cowardly way in 
strange hands. Nothing but the fear of John’s 


TROUBLE 


2 7 


anger kept him from turning back. Richard drew 
a sigh of relief at the thought of not seeing the 
little fellow’s distress and grief. 

He soon reached his destination, placed the 
sleeping child comfortably in the wagon, delivered 
the package into the man’s hands and, after beg- 
ging kind treatment for the little one, fled in an 
agony of fear, guilt and misery. 

When he reached home, he and David had not 
been missed. His father was dying and, to his 
intense relief, no surprise was called forth by his 
own pale, distressed face, his appearance being 
attributed entirely to his knowledge of his father’s 
condition. 

It was several hours before the child was missed. 
Then John, begging that his dying father and his 
stepmother should not be disturbed, assembled the 
neighbors and all of the slaves, except Bill, who 
was left to wait upon his mistress, and made careful 
search in all directions, taking care not to go too 
far in the right one, though pretty sure that the 
man was by this time well out of the way, with his 
charge. 

When Martha Preston turned from the bedside 
of her dead husband with well-nigh breaking heart, 
it was to be confronted with the intelligence that 


28 


MINE INHERITANCE 


her child had disappeared and could not be found. 
Under this second blow, she fell insensible and 
remained so for many days. During that time, 
there was born to her a delicate baby boy. Her 
friends feared for her reason, for her life even, but 
this frail little blossom took hold of her broken 
heart and shattered life. Slowly she struggled back 
to health for its sake. Just as she was able to 
creep out into the sunshine once more, and her 
whole being was becoming centred in her baby, 
there came a third blow — her little one was totally 
blind. Many wondered how she lived through all 
this suffering, but if they could have heard her 
prayers through the long dark nights, they would 
speedily have recognized the source of her strength. 

If by his wild life and mistaken marriage, David 
Preston had given to his first children an inherit- 
ance of sin, affliction and weakness, he had, with- 
out realizing it, made reparation in advance for the 
suffering they should bring upon the children of 
his second wife, and this reparation was made by 
choosing for his second wife an earnest trusting 
prayerful woman, who would become to these, her 
own children, a veritable guardian angel to win for 
them by her prayers and tears before God’s throne 
protection from their older brothers. 


TROUBLE 


29 

It was at this time that her faith shone 
brightest. After continued prayer, there came to 
her a firm conviction that her first-born lived un- 
hurt. Nothing could shake this belief, and com- 
mending him daily to a loving Heavenly Father’s 
care, she lived, always patiently expecting her 
child to be brought back to her and keeping every- 
thing belonging to him in perfect readiness for his 
return. 

To John Preston she was doubly kind, after 
hearing how faithfully he had searched for her lost 
darling. She felt that, in her heart, she had done 
him a former injustice. Now she did everything 
in her power to make amends. If her kindness 
produced any remorse, it was not perceptible, 
though he did manage upon one excuse or another 
to be much away from home. So Martha was 
left with Giddings, who understood none of it; 
poor miserable Richard, who longed to tell her 
what he knew, but dared not for fear of John; 
and the little blind Hugh, who in his baby help- 
lessness became the comfort of his sad mother’s 
heart. 


CHAPTER V 


THREE TRAVELERS 

A WAGON slowly made its way through 
the swamps and forests of southeast Texas. 
It had crossed the Louisiana line into 
Texas two weeks before and had wandered since 
down the Neches River. One day it had spent in 
the low swampy land, and now, in the gathering 

twilight, it was nearing the village of B , and the 

travelers were evidently hunting a suitable camp- 
ing spot for the night. There were only three 
occupants of the wagon. On a pile of soiled 
quilts in the back part, a little boy lay fast asleep, 
while a man and woman sat, arguing in low tones, 
on the one battered seat in front. The entire 
outfit bore the unmistakable stamp of the u ne’er- 
do-well.” 

The rough old wagon had long since lost every 
vestige of paint, and in every way bore marks of 
long service, as it rattled along the dim road 
through the heavy undergrowth. Over the top 
stretched a dirty wagon sheet which let in the sun 
30 


THREE TRAVELERS 


3 1 

or rain, as the weather might offer, through the 
numerous holes scattered over its surface. 

But in nothing was the shabbiness more evident 
than in the couple themselves, nor could one find 
any indications that they had ever known better 
times. The man’s clothing was a slouch hat, a 
soiled shirt and a pair of faded dirty jean trousers. 
His face was covered with a rough shaggy black 
beard. His long black unkempt hair extended 
down over his forehead. Between the hair and 
beard were visible a pair of furtive black eyes and 
a huge beak-like nose. 

The woman’s shoes were rusty, her dress was 
dingy, her skin had that peculiar thick yellow look 
that the lack of cleanliness gives ; but worst of all 
was the sad hopeless expression of the faded face, 
that had probably, at some time, been bright, 
girlish and pretty. 

Evidently the suggestions of her husband were 
unpleasant to her, for she said pathetically, 
“We never had a child of our own, and I think 
you might let me keep this ’un, after I done tuk 
keer of him fur two year now, and love him like 
my own.” 

u No, sir,” declared the man stoutly, “ I’ve fed 
that brat as long as I be goin’ to. That young 


MINE INHERITANCE 


32 

feller writ the last time that he wouldn’t send no 
more money, so I shan’t keep him another day.” 

The woman sighed but said no more, as he 
stopped the wagon and hastily prepared to camp. 
The child too, awakened by the stop, climbed 
silently down from the wagon and stood watching 
the preparations for supper. He was a handsome 
little five-year-old lad, with clear gray eyes, dark 
hair, soft and abundant, and a certain air of refine- 
ment that his dirt and rags could not conceal. 

It was a weird scene that lay about them. The 
tall pines seemed to the child almost to touch the 
blue summer sky. Far beneath them the sweet- 
gum trees tossed their many pointed leaves gaily in 
the gulf breeze. Last year’s pine needles, strewn 
upon the ground, gave forth a wholesome fragrance. 
Here and there were scattered clumps of palmettos, 
the leaves glistening green in the departing rays of 
sunlight. Over a shrub near by, a wild wisteria 
had clambered, and its long clusters of pale purple 
buds were just bursting into fragrant bloom. Here 
and there, to the south, one caught glimpses of the 
smooth shining surface of the Neches River, with 
its wealth of lily pads wearing their crown of white 
and gold right royally. The child drew a long 
breath and looked about him wistfully. He was 


THREE TRAVELERS 


33 


trying in his childish way, as he often did, to recall 
his old home, and his mother’s face, but of late 
they seemed to be fading from him. At last he 
gave it up, with a patient little sigh, and turned to 
watch the crackling camp-fire as it glowed in the 
gathering dusk. 

Presently the woman called them to supper. 
The man soon dispatched his meal and went to 
make his team comfortable for the night, but 
the woman sat listlessly, watching the child. As 
he ate she laid her hand with unwonted tenderness 
upon his arm and said, “ Davie, ye are a good 
boy, and I think a heap of ye.” 

He looked up into her face wonderingly, to see 
tears glittering on her lashes. They made him un- 
comfortable, and as he could think of nothing to 
say, he laid his smooth childish cheek against her 
hand for an instant. The action seemed to please 
her, for she said softly, “ I never had no little boy. 
I know I ain’t your own mammy, but I wisht you 
would call me mammy. You always called her 
c Mother ’ anyhow.” 

He pressed his cheek a little closer, then rais- 
ing his head he said, “ She’s my mother, and you 
are my mammy, is that it ? ” 

“Yes, that’s the way we-uns’ll have it,” she 


34 


MINE INHERITANCE 


answered in a pleased tone, which somehow gave 
him a strange tightness in his throat. 

They said no more, for the man came back and 
sat down by the fire. The child could never help 
feeling afraid of him ; so he sat quite still, nibbling 
at a bit of corn-bread and bacon, until she finished 
washing her limited supply of dishes. Then he 
crept back into the wagon feeling that it was his 
only home now. He lay in his little corner, look- 
ing out at a patch of sky through a hole in the 
wagon sheet, and listened to the preparations for 
the night, until by and by the man and woman also 
retired, and all grew quiet again, except for the 
noises that belong to darkness. 

After a time he, too, fell asleep, with two little 
wet lines down his face, just a trifle cleaner than 
the rest. 

It was not yet daylight when he was awakened 
by the motion of the wagon. He wondered why 
they had started so early ; but from past experience, 
he thought best to ask no questions while the man 
was around. The eastern sky was just showing a 
faint band of light, and the stars had begun to pale, 
when the wagon stopped, and the man, finding him 
awake, whispered to him to get out and follow him. 
They had stopped near a little cottage at the end 


THREE TRAVELERS 


35 


of a street in the village. Both they and the cot- 
tage, faced the deep calm river. Between the cot- 
tage and the sloping river bank was a broad walk. 
They went along this walk until they came to the 
gate. The boy could dimly see the shrubbery in 
the yard as he followed the man in at the gate and 
up the trim little walk. At the door the latter 
paused and whispered, u Set down thar on them 
steps and wait tell I come back.” 

The child obeyed, and the man strode back to 
the wagon and drove off. 

The little fellow watched the wagon out of sight, 
sitting bravely erect as he did so. True, he felt a 
little frightened and bewildered, for the wagon had 
been all the home he had known for two years or 
more. Never before had it or the man or woman 
been out of his sight. These were all the friends 
he knew. They had been kind in their rough fash- 
ion, particularly the woman. They had frequently 
urged him to w be a man.” Now he felt that they 
were trusting him, and he must show them how 
manly he could be. When they came back — and 
he fervently hoped it would not be long — they 
should find him sitting just as he was now. Then 
the woman would be proud of him. By way of 
passing the time he said “ Mammy ” over to him- 


3 6 


MINE INHERITANCE 


self a number of times, rather shyly at first, but 
presently he became used to it and grew to like it. 
It gave him such a pleasant feeling of possession. 

Everything was very still and it seemed such a 
long, long time. The shrubbery was quite plain in 
the garden now, and the stars which had shone so 
brightly all night, had gone off somewhere to 
bed. By and by the little head drooped lower and 
lower until it rested upon the step above, and he 
was fast asleep. When he awoke again the sun 
was shining full in his face and he sat up in alarm. 
The wagon was still nowhere to be seen. He 
waited another long while, then a big tear slipped 
down his cheek, followed by another and another, 
but he made no outcry. He began to hear sounds in 
the rear of the house. By and by a wagon came 
rattling up to the side of the fence, but it was not 
his wagon. A man with some milk-cans before 
him rang a bell, then, while he waited, sat and 
stared at the boy, which greatly increased the little 
fellow's confusion. 


I 



HE WAS FAST ASLEEP 


r 



































































































CHAPTER VI 


THE STRONGS 

A T last the door opened just back of him, 
and the child turned to find a stout, good- 
natured looking woman gazing down upon 
him in evident astonishment. Had she not been 
stout she would have undoubtedly looked prim, so 
spotlessly clean was her dark calico dress, her 
checked cook-apron and her beaming kindly face. 

But she was stout. Her hands were plump and 
dimpled, her cheeks were like two round rosy 
apples, and altogether she was a most comfortable 
person to look upon. 

M Mornin* Miss Strong, you seem to have some- 
thin’ new on hand,” called the milkman with neigh- 
borly curiosity. 

She paid him small heed, however, for she was 
already stooping over the forlorn little figure, with 
a slight cry of surprise, which brought her husband 
in haste to see the cause. By the time he reached 
her side, she had gathered the little waif in her arms 
and was asking, u Who are you ? ” in Tso kind a 
tone, that he ceased to be frightened and answered 
promptly enough, “ I’m Davie.” 

37 


38 MINE INHERITANCE 

u Davie who ? ” inquired her husband over her 
shoulder. 

“ Jest Davie, that’s all,” replied the child, never 
taking his eyes from Mrs. Strong’s face. 

“ What are you doing here ? ” she questioned so 
gently that he felt sure of a protector and nestled 
against the motherly shoulder with a new sense of 
content. 

“ I was jest waitin’ fur him to come back,” was 
the cheerful answer. 

u But who is him ? ” inquired Mr. Strong in a 
puzzled tone. 

w Why, that man that drives the wagon. He told 
me to set down here and wait tell he come back. 
I been waitin’ a long time, but he hain’t come 
y it,” and tears gathered in the child’s eyes, in spite 
of his efforts to keep them back. 

“ No, I suppose not,” was the rather grim 
rejoinder. 

u Oh, Mr. Strong, do you suppose they have 
abandoned him ? ” inquired the motherly woman 
anxiously. 

u Certainly,” was the brief response. 

Her arms tightened, unconsciously, about the child 
as she murmured, u And we have just been wish- 
ing ” Then her eyes filled suddenly with tears. 


THE STRONGS 


39 

c< But we don’t know anything about him,” ob- 
jected Mr. Strong. 

u Couldn’t we keep him awhile ? We might 
find his people,” she suggested. 

“ They evidently don’t want him.” Then turn- 
ing to the child Mr. Strong asked, 

“Was the man who drove the wagon your 
father?” 

“ Oh, no, my father is down deep in the ground. 
The man said so,” and the child shuddered. 

“ What did they call your father ? ” was the next 
question. 

A strange, dusky face came dimly before the 
child’s mind, and he shouted in a shrill sudden 
mimicry, u Oh, Marse David, come hyar to Pete.” 

The husband and wife exchanged glances, and 
the latter asked quickly, 

“ Marse David what ? ” The smile faded, and 
he replied soberly, “ I dunno.” 

u What’s your mother’s name, honey ? ” ques- 
tioned Mrs. Strong again. 

“Just my mother, the woman said,” and the 
childish eyes swam again. 

“ What woman ? ” inquired Mr. Strong. The 
boy hesitated a moment and then said in a low 
tone, u Mammy.” 


4o 


MINE INHERITANCE 


w A colored woman ? ” continued the questioner. 

“ No, the woman in the wagon. She wan’t no 
n igg er >” he answered a trifle indignantly. 

“ Why, la, Mr. Strong, I expect the child is as 
hungry as a bear, and I know our breakfast is get- 
ting cold,” exclaimed Mrs. Strong. Then sud- 
denly remembering the milkman sitting, an open- 
mouthed listener, in his wagon, they bought the 
milk, and went in, closing the door on him and any 
other curious neighbors that might be taking an un- 
due interest in their affairs. 

It was a cozy little cottage they now entered. 
David looked about him with wide-eyed astonish- 
ment. With the exception of an occasional cabin 
along the way, on cold days, this was the first 
house he had entered in quite two years, and he 
had entirely forgotten what a respectable home was 
like. Everything was so clean and neat, that, 
small as he was, his own untidy rags embarrassed 
him. He knew there were clean, pretty children. 
He had seen them along the road, and longed in- 
expressibly to join them at their play. 

Though this was such a tiny cottage, there was 
the same sense of comfort about it that there was 
about the woman, and when they reached the 
kitchen, he drew a long breath of satisfaction at 


THE STRONGS 


41 


the combined effect of the humming tea-kettle, the 
purring cat beside the fire, and, best of all, the 
savory meal spread upon the spotless home-made 
table. To him it all seemed very fine, for he had 
long since forgotten the appointments of his own 
far more elegant home, though having lost no part 
of his inborn appreciation of such things. 

“ Well, Bettie, what can I do for you before I 
go ? ” asked Mr. Strong, rising hastily as his glance 
fell on the clock. She rose and going around to 
him tiptoed to reach the ear he bent toward her. 
He smiled when she was through whispering and 
said, u Why, I suppose we shall have to try it, if 
you have set your heart on it. You know you 
always get your own way, sooner or later.” 

“ What would be the use in being a woman, if 
I couldn’t ? ” she demanded saucily. 

He hurried off to work and she was left with 
her quiet little guest, who sat down by the cat in 
front of the fire, while she cleared away the 
breakfast things with all the eagerness of a child. 
Next she opened the window and cleaned and 
aired the house, like the orderly soul that she was, 
the child following her silently and watching every 
movement with absorbed interest. This com- 
pleted to her entire satisfaction, she brought a tub 


42 


MINE INHERITANCE 


into the kitchen and gave Davie such a scrubbing 
from head to toe, that he never forgot it. Pres- 
ently the smiling satisfaction of her face changed 
to an expression of pain, and she gave vent to a 
sharp exclamation as her eyes fell upon an ugly 
white scar, in the shape of a star, on the tender 
rosy flesh just below the elbow of the left arm. 

“ How came that there, Davie ? ” she inquired. 

He looked at it in a vague troubled way for a mo- 
ment, then shook his head. “ I dunno, I forgot.” 

“Well, never mind,” she answered as she dis- 
appeared into another room for a few minutes. 
Presently she returned. In her hand she carried a 
little night-gown, yellow with age, a keepsake 
made and embroidered by a loving mother’s hands 
in the long ago, and lovingly prized for the hands 
that made it. 

“ Now, Davie,” she said cheerily, w here is 
something I wore before I grew as large as I am 
now. You got up so early this morning, I thought 
maybe you would like to get in my bed and take a 
nap. While you are taking it, I will wash your 
clothes and get them ready for you to put on when 
you wake up.” 

Now Davie was not a bit sleepy and he much 
preferred watching her, but as she had suggested 


THE STRONGS 


43 


it, he felt that he must do as she wished, so he 
went with her very obediently and she put him 
right in the middle of the biggest, downiest, whitest 
bed he thought he had ever seen, which was quite 
probable, as he had had only passing glimpses of 
what could be called beds, through the windows 
of the houses he had passed. 

As Mrs. Strong turned to go back to the kitchen 
he asked timidly, u Would yer mind leavin’ it open 
so I could watch ye ? ” 

She looked about inquiringly, “ Oh, the door ? 
Why, yes, of course I will leave it open,” and she 
turned back softly to press a kiss upon the fair rosy 
cheek. It was the overflow of mother love in her 
breast toward this little waif. To him it was 
something strange. It made him tingle with joy, 
yet he felt puzzled and shy. He said never a 
word, however, but nestled down contentedly upon 
his pillow and thought how good he felt ; then he 
did not remember anything more. When Mrs. 
Strong finished her work she slipped back to see 
how he was progressing. She expected him to be 
asleep, for she was one of those women who are 
never at a loss as to what to do with children. 
The motherliness within her faithful heart was so 
great, that, had he been the first child she had ever 


44 


MINE INHERITANCE 


seen, she would have known just how to manage 
him. She bent over him and listened to the regular 
breathing, at the same time noting the perfect 
features, the fine hair, the rosy healthy skin, the 
symmetrical body. He was such a comely child, 
now that he was clean, and she went back to cook- 
ing dinner with as proud a step as if she had sud- 
denly inherited a fortune. 

When David awoke he could not at first decide 
where he was and for a time he looked about him in 
bewilderment, until presently he espied Mrs. 
Strong as she passed before the still open door. 
Next his eyes fell upon his pile of little clothes, 
all neatly washed, ironed and mended. He drew 
a sigh of satisfaction, for he inherently loved clean- 
liness. Having been taught to dress himself, he 
soon put on the little waist and trousers. Then he 
slipped into the kitchen. Mrs. Strong was setting 
the table and let him help her, to his evident de- 
light. 

As they worked, she encouraged him to tell her 
of the life in the wagon. His shyness was rapidly 
disappearing, when Mr. Strong came home to din- 
ner. He stopped in the doorway smiling, then tak- 
ing a chair by the side of the boy he lifted him to 
a seat upon his knee, saying to his wife, with an 


THE STRONGS 


45 


approving nod, “ He’ll do.” She made no answer, 
but her beaming face was sufficient. M Now my 
little man,” said Mr. Strong as he settled himself 
comfortably in his chair, “ how would you like to 
live with us and be our boy ? ” 

The child looked up with pleasure on his face ; 
then there came vaguely across his memory a pair 
of dark eyes and he said, “ But my mother ? ” 

The strong arm drew him closer and the man 
answered gravely : 

u If we ever find your mother, you shall go to 
live with her, but we want you to be our little boy 
until we do find her.” 

u All right,” was the prompt response. 

Mrs. Strong came over and knelt beside them 
upon the kitchen floor. u Davie, don’t you think 
you could call us papa and mamma ? ” she asked. 

w Yes’m,” was his grave little answer, as he 
looked steadily into the longing face, “ until my 
mother comes.” 

u Couldn’t you call her mother and me mamma ? ” 
was the next question. 

M Oh, yes, then I’ll have a mother and a mammy 
and a mamma ! ” he said, gleefully, counting them 
off on his fingers. 


CHAPTER VII 


david’s little girl 

T HE next afternoon Mrs. Strong changed 
her dress and came out on the front porch 
evidently intending to go away from home. 
She looked about for her little charge and found 
him sitting as still as a mouse behind a big cape 
jasmine bush. 

“ Why Davie, what are you doing? ” she in- 
quired. He got up and came promptly to her side, 
at the same time keeping an anxious eye on the street. 

“ I was skeered he was coming after me ; I heard 
a wagon,” was his answer. 

“ If he should come now, he should not have 
you ! ” she declared with a confidence she did not 
entirely feel. 

He looked up into her face with a luminous 
smile spreading over his features. Little though he 
was, he keenly felt the joy of being wanted. “ Now, 
I am going over to see the lady who lives next door. 
There came to her last night a tiny baby girl. 
Would you like to stay here until I come back ? ” 
she asked. 

The child looked anxiously down the street and 
46 


DAVID'S LITTLE GIRL 


47 

answered, u I can stay. You don't think he'll come 
while you are gone, do you ? '' 

“ I tell you, Davie, I believe God — God, that I 
taught you to say your prayers to last night — sent 
you to us, and I don’t believe he will ever let that 
man come back.” 

The little face brightened then clouded again. 
u But my mother ? ” he suggested. 

“ I hope God will let us find her,” Mrs. Strong 
replied with evident effort. After a pause she con- 
tinued, “ If you can be very still you may go with 
me over there.” 

ct I’ll be still,” declared the child slipping his hand 
quickly into hers and trudging down the flower 
bordered walk by her side. 

Once outside the gate he looked up and asked 
eagerly, u What does it look like ? ” 

u What ? ” she questioned, puzzled to catch his 
thought. 

u Why, that baby,” was the sturdy reply. 

u Oh,” she laughed, u do you want to see it ? 
I’ll show it to you while we are there.” 

When they entered the darkened room, the little 
fellow sat down on a low stool offered him, and 
waited patiently to see the baby. 

The two women talked as neighbor women will. 


4 8 


MINE INHERITANCE 


He heard their talk but they seemed to have for- 
gotten that he wanted to see that baby. He won- 
dered what it was like, where they kept it and what 
they did with it, for it so happened that he had 
never seen a baby. 

At last Mrs. Strong catching sight of his woe- 
begone face, exclaimed, “ Why, bless the child ! 
Come here and see the baby.” 

He obeyed with alacrity as she turned back the 
cover. He gazed 2t «t in silent astonishment, the 
smiling women watching, curious to see what he 
would do. Finally he drew a long breath, and 
asked, “ Wuz I ever like that ? ” 

When assured that he was, he stood thinking 
soberly, until the tiny creature opened its eyes, then 
he clapped his hands with glee and inquired eagerly, 
“ What yer goin’ to do with it ? ” 

“ I don’t know; why ? ” asked the mother look- 
ing proudly down at her baby daughter. 

M I wisht I had it,” he declared stoutly. 
w Oh, you mean you wish you had one like it ? ” 
corrected Mrs. Strong in an amused tone. 
u No, I want that one,” he persisted. 

At this the mother smiled at Mrs. Strong signifi- 
cantly and said, “ Never mind, you be a real good 
boy and maybe some day I will give her to you.” 


DAVID’S LITTLE GIRL 


49 

“ Oh, will you ? ” he cried ; “ I’ll be just as good 
as I kin be.” 

“All right,” said Mrs. McArthur patting his 
hand kindly. 

“Why, la, Ann, if it ain’t sundown and I haven’t 
done a bit of my night work. I must go this very 
minute,” declared Mrs. Strong rising as she spoke. 

u Must you go ? ” sighed the young mother. “I 
am glad you came. I get so lonesome and I don’t 
know what I should do without you, Miss Bettie. 
You have been like a sister to me since I married 
and came here. You were always a good friend 
to me back at home, even when I was a child.” 

“Well now, you are a great comfort to me, if 
you only knew it,” declared the other, as she passed 
out of the door with her young charge, after prom- 
ising to come again the next day ; which promise 
filled David with even greater pleasure than it did 
Ann McArthur. 

That night after supper David was comfortably 
settled on Mr. Strong’s knee, when he suddenly 
announced, 

“ I’ve got a little girl.” 

“ Oh, you have ! ” exclaimed Mr. Strong, while 
Mrs. Strong laughed gaily. “ And pray where is 
she ? ” inquired that gentleman. 


5 ° 


MINE INHERITANCE 


“ She’s over there,” answered the boy, pointing 
his chubby finger in the direction of the McArthur 
home. 

“Well now, how big is she?” questioned Mr. 
Strong, with the interest of a man unused to 
children. 

“Why — why, she’s about as big as my fist,” 
cried the child excitedly. 

The next morning he hung about Mrs. Strong, 
tried to help her, got in her way and puzzled her 
generally, until finally he asked, “ When are we 
going to see my little girl ? ” She laughed merrily, 
but promised to go soon after dinner. It seemed 
to him the time would never come. These new 
friends could not realize how the child nature was 
craving the companionship of children. When 
Mrs. Strong went over, of course she had to tell 
Mrs. McArthur what Davie had said about the 
baby. 

“ Why, bless his little heart ! ” exclaimed that 
kindly woman. “ Now, Miss Bettie, you must let 
him come over to see her every single morning if 
he wants to.” 

So it quickly came to be an understood thing 
that Davie and the baby should spend a great deal 
of time together. 


CHAPTER VIII 


OF CHILDREN 

S O weeks passed into months and months 
slipped into years. Already Mr. and Mrs. 
Strong had grown to wonder if they could 
have loved a child of their own more dearly than 
this little boy, whom God had sent to bless their 
home. He was growing into a sturdy little lad. 
The crowning joy to him, however, came on the 
bright October day, when he first started to school. 
With his slate, pencil and the wonderful blue- 
backed speller under his arm, he went timidly up 
to the little old unpainted schoolhouse door, where 
he lingered uncertain how to proceed. Presently 
he espied the jolly little red-faced teacher smiling 
and beckoning him to come in. Once there, his 
timidity vanished. Under the kindly direction of 
“ Teacher,” who had dearly loved small boys of 
his own, he was soon busy and happy. 

From that hour the teacher was one of his 
heroes as the first teacher generally is and should 
be. In those early days when they worked so 
faithfully and under such innumerable difficulties 
5i 


52 


MINE INHERITANCE 


to lay the foundation of our present splendid public 
school system, the pioneer teacher surely deserved 
the homage of those for whom he toiled. 

David’s time now flew swiftly. Besides 
“Teacher” and the lessons, there were the re- 
cesses and plenty of children with whom he could 
play. Then what fun it was to show the father 
and mother, every night, how much he had learned 
through the day. How they oh’ed and ah’ed over 
his progress, fully deciding in their own minds that 
he was a most wonderful little boy. 

But, to all this pleasure, there was one draw- 
back. Mona McArthur, the best playmate, was 
too young to go. How she fretted for u Dabie ” 
and how she watched for his coming, clapping her 
hands for joy when he came in sight. How her 
bright eyes would sparkle and her curls bob about 
her restless little head, how eagerly she called him 
to hurry back and play with her or trudged con- 
tentedly with him to his house, as the case might 
be. It was hard for him to tear himself away from 
her and he always hurried back with unabated 
enthusiasm. 

One afternoon he came down the street, eagerly 
watching for her face. Presently he espied her 
playing with a little new neighbor boy, on the bank 


OF CHILDREN 


53 


of the ditch which ran between Mrs. Strong’s and 
Mrs. McArthur’s yards, cutting the broad walk in 
two and emptying into the river. Where it 
divided the walk there was a small bridge over it. 
On the end of this bridge, the two children sat 
crawfishing side by side, each with a string to 
which a bit of meat was attached. Presently, 
even as David approached them, the boy wearied 
of this sport and looking about for more, the 
spirit of mischief seized him and he pushed Mona 
off into the soft mud below their swinging bare 
feet. Instantly there was a howl of wrath from 
Mona, while David promptly collared the boy and 
shook him. “ There ! ” he shouted, as he pushed 
the crying boy from him, u if you was my size 
I’d whip you, you little coward.” But the child 
fled for home, not waiting to reply or hear more, 
while faithful David made haste to extricate Mona 
and carry her to her mother. He waited long 
enough to see her smile, then hurried home, for 
Mrs. Strong, though very kind, was also firm and 
required him to come promptly home. 

He rushed in all out of breath, in his indignation 
to tell Mrs. Strong of Mona’s mishap. He got no 
further than opening his mouth very wide, then he 
stood staring a whole minute without uttering a 


54 


MINE INHERITANCE 


sound. Before him sat Mrs. Strong with a crow- 
ing baby in her arms, and another asleep on the 
bed beside her. At sight of his bewildered face, 
she could scarcely refrain from laughing, but call- 
ing him to her side, she slipped a reassuring arm 
about him, pushed back the soft hair from his brow 
with a caressing hand and said, u This morning I 
went to see a poor sick friend of mine, who had 
these two little baby girls with nobody to take care 
of them. She was so very sick that the doctors 
said she could not live but a little while. She was 
so distressed because she had no people and she 
did not know what would become of her babies. 
She had known me a long time and begged me to 
take them for my little girls. I went to see your 
father and we agreed that it was so pleasant to 
have a nice big boy in our home that we decided 
to take the little girls too. I went back and the 
lady gave them to me for my own, to be your 
little sisters. She died in just a little while and 
now these dear little babies have nobody to love or 
care for them but us.” 

u An’ they are goin’ to stay our very own and 
nobody can’t take them away any mor’n they can 
me ? ” demanded David standing on first one foot 
then the other in an ecstasy of delight. 


OF CHILDREN 


55 


u No, they can’t take them away; but remember 
now, they are your little sisters and you will have 
to help us take care of them,” was the answer. 

“ Oh, yes’m, I’ll help, and can’t I go get Mona, 
and let us sit down here on the floor by you and 
hold um, just a tiny tony bit?” he begged excitedly. 

u Yes, if you will be careful with them,” was 
the answer. He paused long enough to put up his 
soft red lips for a kiss, then flew away to find his 
tc little girl ” to share with him this new joy, just 
as she had always shared the old ones. 

Presently they came back and settled themselves 
on the floor side by side. After the babies were 
placed snugly in their laps, the two heads bobbed 
sociably together as they compared the two rosy, 
pink-toed babies and tried to decide which was the 
prettier. Two pairs of eager eyes presently 
looked up as their owners inquired for the babies’ 
names. 

u Why, yes, they are named,” answered Mrs. 
Strong smiling, “ one for their mother, one for 
me.” 

u Oh,” cooed Mona, “ what’s ve names of 
vem ? ” 

“ They are named Maud and Bess,” was the 


answer. 


56 MINE INHERITANCE 

“ But which is Maud and which is Bess ? ” per- 
sisted David. 

Mrs. Strong looked at him helplessly a moment 
and then laughingly said, u My son, I couldn’t tell 
which was which to save my life.” 

At this juncture they looked up to find Mr. 
Strong standing in the doorway, smiling over their 
dilemma. 

w Let me call mine Bess, ’cause that’s your 
name,” urged David. 

“ But how are you going to tell she is Bess after 
you put her down ? ” questioned Mr. Strong. 

M I know,” declared Mrs. Strong brightening. 
Then she disappeared, returning with a bit of 
scarlet yarn thread and a bit of blue, which she 
tied, one on the sleeve of each baby. 

u There, the blue is for Bess and the red for 
Maud. When they get older we can tie it on 
their hair, if we cannot tell them apart any other 
way,” she said. 

It was not long, however, until it was easy to 
distinguish between them, as Maud’s eyes grew 
darker and Bess became a decided blond. 

Mona now spent a great deal of her time with 
the “ twinnies,” as she called them. But even if 
she did not come to see them before, she always 


OF CHILDREN 


57 


came as soon as David arrived from school, be- 
cause he felt his importance as caretaker of the 
babies, and had less time to go to Mona’s. 

But if he found less time for visiting her, his 
love for her did not diminish. He welcomed her 
whenever she came and always shared every pleas- 
ure with her. 

At her desire, Mona’s discarded baby carriage, 
the only one in the town, was brought over and on 
every fine afternoon a twin was deposited in each 
end of it, by Mrs. Strong. Then Mona and 
David amused themseives and their charges by 
trundling them about the yard. 


CHAPTER IX 


DEEPENING SHADOWS 

T HOUGH so young, David was a serious 
child and thoughtful beyond his years. 
Although busy with school and play, with 
Mona and the babies, yet there were many things 
happening which greatly puzzled him. He real- 
ized in his childish way, that something was going 
on, of serious importance to his elders. He would 
see Mr. and Mrs. Strong sit talking anxiously to- 
gether over something that evidently troubled them. 
But he knew that it was not alone their trouble, for 
he saw the teacher and two or three of the large 
boys talking together in the same way. In all their 
talk he heard Davis, Lincoln, Sumter and many 
other words until they became familiar though he 
did not in the least understand them. When peo- 
ple met on the streets, he would hear them anx- 
iously inquire, M Any news ? ” He could see other 
men talking earnestly with Mr. Strong as they went 
to and from town. Sometimes they came to sit 
with the Strongs after supper, and they always 
58 


DEEPENING SHADOWS 


59 


talked of the same things with the same troubled 
earnestness. Mr. McArthur was not one of these 
men, however. He never stopped to talk with his 
neighbors. He attended strictly to his own affairs 
and plainly indicated that he wished them to do the 
same. David often heard him mentioned in low 
indignant tones, and while he could not understand 
what they said, he realized that, for some reason, 
they disapproved of Mona’s father. 

One afternoon Mona came over as usual, and 
found the babies asleep, so she and David went to 
play under the big magnolia tree, a favorite place 
with them both. David was busy whittling a top 
from an old spool, while Mona made a playhouse 
beside him. She was gifted in making playhouses 
from any available material. The only thing abso- 
lutely necessary to her satisfaction in them was the 
presence of David. Her materials were unimpor- 
tant ; a bit of cloth, a few leaves, flowers or sticks 
could be combined to entertain her indefinitely. 
Now she was busy with some bits of broken crock- 
ery, a small rag doll and a board. 

Presently she looked up and asked soberly, 
“ Davie, what’s the matter with my papa ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” declared Davie truthfully. 
“ Why, Mona ? ” 


6o 


MINE INHERITANCE 


44 Well, last night, when we was eatin’ our sup- 
per, he told mamma he was goin’ to some place — 
let me see, it was Woo-rope, or somethin’ like that, 
to stay a long time. Mamma asked him if he was 
goin’ to take us. He looked jest as funny and said, 
4 Certainly not,’ he couldn’t be bothered with us, 
and then he told her he had fixed everything for us 
to stay right here. Mamma looked sick and white, 
and after papa went back to town she cried and 
cried, and kept sayin’ over and over, 4 He might 
a ’suited me,’ or something like that. Davie, was 
my papa mean to her? If I thought so I’d just 
hate him, ’cause mamma is so sweet and good. To- 
day she has had the headache all day. Her room 
is all dark, and Mammy Jane looks cross and says, 
‘hateful thing,’ and won’t let me go in mamma’s 
room.” 

The child had stopped playing, and was looking 
up into David’s face with her eyes all brimming 
with tears. The boy was filled with sudden anger 
at the sight of her childish grief, then he put his 
arm tenderly about her and said, 44 Never mind, lit- 
tle girl, it will be all right. When I get to be a man 
I shan’t ever let anybody make you cry again.” 
Finding this comforted her he suggested, 44 S’pose 
you climb up on the gate-post and jump off. I’ll 


deepening shadows 


6i 


catch you and play you jumped out of a big house 
that was burning.” 

This proposition delighted her, for it was only 
when David wished to be especially kind that he 
would play this, for Mona was getting to be quite 
a heavy little girl and it was all he could do to stand 
when he caught her. 

A few evenings later David heard Mr. Strong 
and one of the neighbors gravely discussing Mr. 
McArthur’s departure for Europe, which had taken 
place that day. He was puzzled by their manner 
as they spoke of it, and slipped away to where Mrs. 
Strong was putting the twins to bed. He told her 
what Mona had told him a few days before. But 
even mamma did not enlighten him, for all she 
said when he had finished was, u Poor Ann, I’ll 
go over to see her to-morrow.” He went to bed 
more puzzled than ever. He did not like Mr. 
McArthur because he never noticed children, and 
then he had, in some way, managed to make Mrs. 
McArthur unhappy. But he could not understand 
why his elders also showed such disapproval of the 
man. 

Things kept getting queerer and queerer, until 
at last his own dear papa kissed them all good-bye, 
and laying his hand tenderly on David’s head said, 


62 


MINE INHERITANCE 


“ Be a good boy, my son, and take good care of 
mamma for me until I come back.” Then he 
went away leaving Mrs. Strong crying with her 
arms about the bewildered little lad, while the ba- 
bies toddled about in gleeful ignorance. Then it 
was that Mrs. Strong thought to explain to him 
about the terrible war which had begun, and why 
papa must go to fight the Yankees, while they 
stayed at home to work and pray for him. 

u Is that where Mr. McArthur is gone ? ” asked 
David, when she had finished. 

M No,” she answered, and closed her lips tightly, 
so queer for mamma, but she would say no more. 


CHAPTER X 


WAR 

I T was the night of the third of July in *63. 
The Confederates were camped four miles 

from H . To-morrow they were going to 

try to take the town from the Federals, who were 
quite comfortably ensconced there. 

It was a warm night, and the men were weary 
with the day’s march. Many of them lay about 
in groups resting, as twilight came on. Four men 
composed one of these groups. From their appear- 
ance, one would rightly judge that chance rather 
than intention had thrown them together. They 
were talking together in low tones. Presently one, 
a middle-aged man, said, “ It’s all very well for 
younger fellows to look forward to war, but when 
a man has a family dependent upon him, it makes 
a difference.” 

“ How large a family have you ? ” politely in- 
quired the youngest man of the group, perhaps for 
the want of something else to say. 

“ I have a wife and three children, but the chil- 

63 


6 4 


MINE INHERITANCE 


dren are adopted. About seven years ago, we 
found a little boy on our door-steps, early one 
morning. He was a handsome little chap with big 
gray eyes and dark hair. There was a star-shaped 
scar on his left arm, just below the elbow, evidently 
from a burn.” All three of his listeners drew 
eagerly forward, but the narrator was so intent upon 
his story that he did not notice it. 

“ He did not know anything about the scar nor 
about his people, except that his father was called 
c Marse David ’ by somebody, and that his father 
was dead.” 

The two young men looked at each other quickly, 
while the fourth man eyed them keenly. 

“ He talked,” continued the speaker, “ about a 
man in a wagon coming back for him and a woman 
with him, the little chap called c mammy.’ I tried 
to find his folks for awhile, but I didn’t succeed, 
and now I am glad of it, for he is as fine a little 
fellow as the country affords. Some time after- 
wards we adopted two little girls. So we have 
a pretty good family of other people’s children. 
I don’t know how my wife would take care of 
them, if anything was to happen to me, that is, 
until Davie gets old enough to help. Even then it 
would be a pretty sharp scuffle.” 


WAR 


65 


The youngest man of the group, scarcely grown, 
said something about the kindness of the speaker 
in taking care of so many orphans, and evidently 
wanted to say something more when the other 
young man interrupted him, gruffly, saying, 

u I expect it’s time we were asleep, Dick,” 
whereupon they rose and walked away. 

When out of earshot of the others, the younger 
said, chokingly, u John, that man is taking care of 
our brother. If anything happens to him, the 
child will be reduced to abject poverty, when he 
has a right to be the richest man in our county.” 

u Well, what of it ? Don’t you suppose I have 
sense enough to understand that ? I am glad he 
has been comfortable so far,” was the snarling an- 
swer of the low-browed elder brother. 

“ John, the thing we’ve done is all wrong,” de- 
clared Richard sharply. 

“ It’s done at all events, and it’s too late now to 
right it,” was the positive reply. 

The two men left sitting on the grass silently 
watched them disappear in the gathering twilight, 
then the one who had so far remained silent, leaned 
over and said, 

“ Good-lookin’ young chaps, — look like they 
might be uster good livin’, shore,” 


66 


MINE INHERITANCE 


w Yes,” was the slow rejoinder, “that youngest 
one reminds me some of our Davie.” 

The other man started slightly and ejaculated, 
ct Is that so ? Well, mister, we are goin’ into a bat- 
tle to-morrow, and we mought not both come out 
alive. You don’t know who I am, and I don’t 
guess it matters much, but I was the man in the 
wagon that never come back, and them two fellers 
yonder is the ones that hired me to take Davie off.” 

His listener stared into the dark face beside him 
in silent amazement. 

u It’s a fact, whether you believe it or not,” as- 
sented the other as he rose and shuffled off in the 
gathering gloom. 

That night four men lay awake making plans 
concerning little David, and thinking of the 
chance meeting of that evening. Mr. Strong’s 
thoughts were sad, yet mingled with a satisfaction 
in thinking of the possibility of restoring him to a 
heart-broken mother, if she were still living. 

u The man who drove the wagon ” was planning 
to sell his knowledge of the child’s whereabouts to 
the highest bidder. Richard fell asleep in one of 
his abject fits of remorse, with one of his firm reso- 
lutions to see the stranger to-morrow, and find out 
the present home of his little brother, and when the 


WAR 67 

war was over to restore the child to the long-suf- 
fering mother. 

John knew Richard so well, that he did not 
have to question the latter to know of his remorse 
and resolutions. But he also knew that he could 
keep Richard close to him until his fit of despond- 
ency was past, and so prevent his seeking for the 
troublesome little brother who would not remain 
lost. 

With the morning came hasty preparations for 
the battle. The hurried march, the prompt battle, 
the defeat of the Confederates have all been told in 
history and we will not dwell upon them here. 

As they retreated, Richard found beside him the 
body of his brother John, and a little farther on he 
came to that of the stranger who had told of the 
“ Little Davie ” in his home. Near him lay the 
slouchy dark man, who had silently listened to 
the story with them and eyed each one in turn 
with his furtive, beady eyes. He, also, was ap- 
parently dead. About his ragged, unkempt hair 
and beard, soiled face and clothing, but most of all 
those cunning little eyes, there was something puz- 
zlingly familiar, yet Richard could not place him. 
He did not dwell long on the subject, however, for 
his troubled thoughts were taken up with the death 


68 


MINE INHERITANCE 


of his older brother and of the stranger from whom 
he was to have gained such valuable information 
concerning the younger one. He made some effort 
to learn the man’s name and the town whence he 
came, but he found it difficult, and as most of his 
resolutions were of short duration, this passed in 
the excitement of the hour and his opportunity was 
lost. 

After the retreat of the Confederates, the Fed- 
erals found among their wounded, who were sup- 
posed to be dead, this same dark, unkempt man 
groaning in great suffering. He was carried by 
them to the hospital at Preston House, which they 
had seized and were now using for that purpose. 

The man lay for some time totally unconscious, 
but by and by he recovered consciousness and 
made a dazed effort to take in something of his 
surroundings. How long he lay there he did not 
know. He could not move anything except his 
eyes, and these found little to see, beyond the lofty 
ceiling, the upper part of the large windows and, 
most interesting of all, a man’s portrait. This last 
hung upon the wall just opposite and his eyes 
rested upon it without effort. It seemed the only 
real thing near him. He was dimly aware that 
there were other sufferers in the room. But it 


WAR 


69 

seemed to his dazed brain that everybody in the 
whole world was suffering intolerably, with the ex- 
ception of the man in the portrait. He alone was 
at peace. His broad white forehead was smooth, 
his gray eyes looked away over the wounded man’s 
head, as though in deep study. The dark hair 
looked fine and abundant, even in the picture. 

Then for a time he lost consciousness, even of 
his intense suffering. When he came to himself 
again, a woman stood beside him. Her cool, firm 
hand rested for a moment upon his burning fore- 
head. He looked up into a face that was com- 
paratively colorless, but for the two straight red 
lips that were closed firmly together. She was by 
no means an old woman. Her figure was trim 
and stately, her skin was fresh and smooth, yet the 
soft, waving hair, parted and drawn smoothly into 
a knot back of her neck, was as white as it is pos- 
sible for human air to become. Out of this white 
face and from beneath this crown of white hair, 
glowed a pair of large dark eyes, that were won- 
derfully kind, yet back of their kindness was a 
certain restless eagerness that made him know, sick 
and suffering though he was, that she had long been 
watching for some one. He gazed at her wonder- 
ingly for a moment, then his eyes again sought 


7 o MINE INHERITANCE 

the portrait. Presently he whispered, “Where 
am I ? ” 

“You are in the hospital,” she replied, as she 
began to bathe his face. 

“ Yanks ? ” was the next feeble inquiry. 

“Yes, it is a Yankee hospital,” was her slow 
answer. 

He wondered what she was doing there but did 
not ask. 

Presently his eyes went back to the portrait and 
he whispered, 

« Who is he ? ” 

“ That is my husband,” she replied as her skilful 
fingers began to dress the wound in his shoulder. 
She continued talking as she worked, he thought at 
first to divert his mind, but presently he saw there 
was another reason. 

“This is my home. The Yankees seized it for 
a hospital. I had already sent my family away, so 
I begged them to let me stay and help with the 
nursing. 

“ Nine years ago, I had a little three year old boy 
to disappear and we never could find him. I 
thought if I stayed here, I might find some one 
who knew something of him. He resembled his 
father very much and their names were the same, 


WAR 


7 1 

David Preston. We called the child Davie. On 
his left arm below the elbow, was a star-shaped 
scar, from a burn. Have you ever heard of him ? ” 
She told her story in a slow measured voice, and at 
the end asked the question patiently as she worked, 
and he knew, as he drifted out again upon the wide 
sea of insensibility, that she had told it often be- 
fore, and would probably tell it to every soldier 
whom she met, in the faint hope of getting news. 

When he awoke again he could feel nothing, 
and there was a strange sense of lightness about his 
body. He looked about vaguely, getting his bear- 
ings from the portrait again. 

He suddenly remembered the woman and what 
she had said. He turned his eyes in her direction, 
but she was gone and a gray haired negro man, 
sitting where she had been, was gravely waving a 
large turkey-wing fan over him. His hair was not 
nearly so white as the woman’s, but in the kindly 
old face were the unmistakable furrows of ap- 
proaching age. 

u Where is the lady ? ” asked the sufferer 
feebly. 

M Mistiss ? She done gone to lay down an’ res’ 
a while. She tole me to take keer on you tell the 
doctor got to you.” 


7 2 


MINE INHERITANCE 


“ I tried to tell her but I couldn't,” gasped the 
wounded man. w Her little boy — a young feller 
named John Preston come hired me to — I wuz 
passin’ through here — he come and promised to 
pay me to take him off. After awhile — a young 
feller named Dick somethin' or other — I think 
they wuz brothers — he come and fetched the little 
chap asleep. He cried an' said his pa was a 
dyin'.” He paused and the old negro leaned 
eagerly over him. Presently he went on again, 
w The other one sent me money every once in a 
while, then — he quit and I left the little feller on a 
man's steps in — in — tell her in ” 

But the sentence was never finished in this 
world. The man had gone with his message into 
the unknown. 

Old Bill sat for a time in dumb bitter disap- 
pointment. He had come so close to happiness for 
his mistiss, and then to fail ! 

At last he said to himself, u Well, arter all, he 
didn’t tell me whar to fine him. Now ought I to 
tell my pore little missie or not ? Hit shorely 
wouldn't help her none. So hit was Marse John 
that sent his little brother off. I hain’t much sur- 
prised at that, but I shorely didn't tink Marse Dick 


WAR 


73 

would ’a* done it, I shorely didn’t. He wouldn’t 
nuther if Marse John hadn’t made him do it.” 

The old man sat and shook his head thought- 
fully. After awhile he began again, “I dunno 
whether to tell missie or not.” He pondered long 
by the dead man’s side. After a time he rose shak- 
ing his head again. u He said tell her, but he didn’t 
say what to tell, an’ hit would jest worry her and 
not do a mite of good ’thout I knew whar he was, 
an’ what to tell her. No, siree, bob, I shan’t say a 
word.” 


CHAPTER XI 


THE MAN OF THE HOUSE 

W HILE Mrs. McArthur was drooping 
under her concealed troubles, cheery 
busy Mrs. Strong could not take time 
for worry, because she must keep the wolf from the 
door. She wondered more than once, what she 
would have done without the manly little David. 
How many steps his ready young feet saved her, 
none but she ever knew. When she was reluctant 
to let him take so much upon his young shoulders 
he would always say, M Oh, but you know I have 
to take papa’s place now,” after which he went 
sturdily on with his self-imposed task. Had they 
not been so busy, time would have dragged with 
this and many another brave woman, for what is 
so wearying as waiting ? 

There came news of a battle here, danger there, 
then for a time no news at all. By and by there 
came a dark day, when it was rumored that Mr. 
Strong had been killed. A day or two later the 
news was confirmed. He had fallen at the battle 
74 


THE MAN OF THE HOUSE 


75 


of H on the fourth of July. When this blow 

came, brave Bettie Strong bowed beneath it for a 
time, but when a kindly well-meaning neighbor 
came in to suggest that some other provision would 
have to be made for the children, as she could not 
possibly care for them longer, she roused fiercely 
and answered, u I am going to take care of them 
myself. They are all I have left and no one but 
God shall take them from me.” She wept bitterly 
when she found she must take Davie from the 
little school, but he comforted her by saying, 
“ Never mind, mamma, you can teach me after 
supper every night.” 

After some difficulty she got him a place as office 
and errand boy. He was, she judged, about twelve 
years old now. All day he ran errands and she 
sewed, but after supper they settled themselves 
with his books and her knitting. She did all in her 
power to render the lessons helpful and attractive, 
though many times her eyes ached and she longed 
to rest. David received valuable training in the 
office in his studies, but most of all in the solid 
lessons of virtue and piety that were to mold his 
character for all time to come. 

Mrs. Strong’s religion was decidedly practical. It 
grieved her that there was so little religious worship 


76 


MINE INHERITANCE 


in the town. At irregular intervals a preacher 
would pass through, stopping over to preach two or 
three sermons, but during the rest of the time they 
were without services. 

There were no Sabbath-schools or prayer-meet- 
ings, and this she felt she must remedy. After 
much anxiety, thought and earnest prayer, she 
decided to invite her neighbors to her house on the 
Sunday forenoons in which there was no preaching, 
to have prayer-meetings. On Sabbath afternoons 
she gathered in all the children she could and gave 
them somewhat of Sunday-school by teaching them 
Bible stories. Of course her own children received 
the benefit of both of these services, as well as all 
other children who cared to come. 

David was especially fond of the Bible stories, 
and of them all, the story of Daniel was his favor- 
ite. He always begged for it when it was his time 
to choose the story ; and the passage, w But Daniel 
purposed in his heart that he would not defile him- 
self,” became somewhat of a motto to the thought- 
ful growing boy. He kept the thought of finding 
nis mother, when he became a man, always before 
him. When he found her, she must be proud of 
him. He, like Daniel, would not defile himself. 
Some of his ideas of defilement might have been 


THE MAN OF THE HOUSE 77 

amusing to his elders, but he had his own standard 
and strove manfully to live up to it. 

With the coming of spring they managed to find 
the time to make a garden, which not only supplied 
their table but also gave them some vegetables to 
sell to more prosperous neighbors. It seemed to 
Mrs. Strong that chickens never did so well. 
From their little income she managed to save 
enough to buy a cow, which not only supplied 
them bountifully with milk and butter, but gave 
some surplus to sell. She never knew that kind- 
hearted Ann McArthur did not have a garden that 
spring, in order that she might buy vegetables of 
these hard-working friends ; or that she ate up all 
of her own chickens, so she could buy those of the 
widow and orphans. 

David's greatest privation, of which he said 
nothing, was seeing so little of Mona. He was 
usually cleaning up the office in the mornings 
before she was awake. He had no time at noon 
or night. But the Sabbath was always their day 
together. When there was preaching at the little 
schoolhouse, they went early and sat side by side 
between their mothers, and then all came home to 
Mrs. McArthur’s for dinner, where the children 
played until time for the little Sabbath-school. 


78 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Though so busy, Mrs. Strong tried hard to keep 
life from being all work for her growing, restless 
children. In the garden was always planted a long 
row of pop-corn and one of ribbon-cane for their 
special pleasure. When the cane was ripe, Mona 
was called over every afternoon after David got 
home from the office, and all four children ranged 
themselves in a comfortable row on the back fence 
and chattered like so many blackbirds, while David 
peeled and cut up the long, smooth stalks of liquid 
sweetness into suitable lengths for chewing. At 
first Mrs. Strong feared that the quantity they ate 
would make them sick, but finding it did not, she 
rejoiced at their pleasure and left them to enjoy it 
to their hearts’ content. 

Then they had their two small banana trees, and 
several orange trees, which supplied them a moderate 
amount of those luscious fruits, the first eaten when 
ripe, the latter gathered late in the fall and stored, 
with the pop-corn, for Christmas and the remainder 
of the winter. 

When the winter came, Mona was there, for 
whenever the evening was cold enough to have a 
fire, lessons were laid aside ; the big pot was put 
on a roaring fire, a goodly lump of butter, with 
plenty of salt, was put into the pot with the pop- 


THE MAN OF THE HOUSE 


79 


corn which they had shelled, and all took turns at 
stirring, as one could not long stand the heat. 
When it was done a big paper was spread on the 
rug and the snowy feast was emptied in a great pile 
thereon. How they all enjoyed these frolics ! 
Sometimes they made molasses candy, pulling some 
and making pop-corn balls with the rest, the corn 
being popped without the salt and butter for this 
purpose. 

Usually Mrs. Strong’s contribution to the fun 
was to tell them stories of her girlhood, as she sat 
with her ever-present knitting. 

Sometimes she left them to entertain themselves 
with their own nonsense, while she listened, learn- 
ing more than they dreamed from their language, 
plans and accounts of the day’s happenings, about 
her own management and training of them. 

One night they were thus occupied planning, be- 
tween mouthfuls of pop-corn, what they would do 
when they were grown. Bess declared she would 
have a big house and ten children to cook and sew 
for, then she would have plenty to do and lots of 
company. Maud sniffed contemptuously. “ I am 
not going to get married,” she declared. u I am 
going to make lots of money and go round the 
world like the man mamma was reading about.” 


8o 


MINE INHERITANCE 


w When I get grown, I am going to marry the 
prettiest girl I know,” said David as he sat admir- 
ing the glow of the firelight upon Mona’s red hair, 
brown eyes and freckles, all of the same shade, and 
all beautiful to him. 

Now at school, a few days before, Mona had 
been told how very homely red hair and freckles 
were, so the mention of beauty roused her quick 
temper and she cried hotly, “ When I get grown I 
am going to marry a rich man with a big fine 
house.” 

David was not discomfited by her requirements, 
for, of course, if she wanted anything he would get 
it for her ; but why was she angry about it ? He 
puzzled over this silently until she cast more than 
one sidelong glance to see if she had offended him. 
It was always his way to be quiet when she became 
vexed. He was calm, even in anger, while she 
was at times a very little spitfire. But he loved 
her none the less for her hasty tongue and hot 
temper. 

Those were lonely days for Ann McArthur. 
Secretly she would have been glad to share her home 
with Mrs. Strong and the orphans, to save her 
friend so much hard work, and because they would 
have been a great comfort to her in her loneliness 


THE MAN OF THE HOUSE 81 


and failing health. This was out of the question, 
however ; first, because Mrs. Strong would not 
have accepted so much, and, again, because she 
knew her husband would object very seriously to 
such proceedings. But if she could not take care 
of them entirely, there were numberless ways of 
helping them and she never lost an opportunity to 
do so. It seemed to Mrs. Strong that Ann was 
very foolish not to make Mona’s dresses longer, for 
she always outgrew them while they were perfectly 
good, when they were invariably given to the twins. 
Besides all the other help, she had Mrs. Strong do 
all of her sewing. So they got on quite comfort- 
ably together and the children were as happy as 
four little birds. Mrs. Strong was quite con- 
tented and spent little time in useless grief. But 
in Mrs. McArthur’s eyes there lay a shadow that 
had come to remain, though she never spoke of her 
trouble, even to Mrs. Strong. 

When the war closed, all of Mrs. McArthur’s 
slaves left but two. Mammy and her son, Jeff, 
flatly refused to go with the rest, so Mrs. Mc- 
Arthur gratefully employed them, and her household 
moved on as before. 

When the time for her husband’s return drew 
near, she faced the event with dread. She was a 


82 


MINE INHERITANCE 


loving, impulsive, warm-hearted woman. She had 
at first taken his calm indifference for depth, but 
ever since her marriage she had realized more and 
more that his marriage had simply been one of 
Donald McArthur’s financial moves. True, he 
had done well with her property, had kept her in 
ease and comfort, and showed plainly that he felt 
that he had therefore been a good husband. Her 
affection irritated him. When Mona came he was 
glad for her to lavish her caresses on the child and 
leave him alone. He was vexed when he found 
that Mona had inherited her mother’s intensity, but 
he left them to enjoy each other and went tran- 
quilly on his way. 

When he went away and left her, so indiffer- 
ently, at the beginning of the war, it hurt her 
cruelly, but it was the death-blow to her affection 
for him. It was as if she had wakened to the fact 
that she had married another man from the one she 
had intended marrying. She had a certain sense of 
pity for him that he was so incapable of affection, 
but she had ceased to care particularly for him and 
dreaded having him come back to her. If he could 
have gone on living away she would have been 
glad. As long as she loved him, she could be pa- 
tient with his fault-finding and even his indifference, 


THE MAN OF THE HOUSE 83 

though they hurt her more. Now that she did not 
care, she dreaded him as something of a master to 
whom she must render an account. She was a 
woman to whom love was everything. Had he but 
loved her she could have borne poverty and toil, 
have reared him a large family in health and hap- 
piness, but when her love died, her health failed 
and she would have faded quickly but for her child. 
Her intense love for Mona made her cling to life, 
even though it was the life of an invalid. 

Mr. McArthur arrived early one forenoon, but 
did not come home until dark. He spent the day 
in town going over his business, only sending word 
of his arrival. When he reached home, Mona ran 
to meet him, but his wife remaining in the house 
gave him a very quiet reception. He was equally 
surprised and relieved at her lack of demonstration. 
To him it indicated that she had at last ceased to 
be a child, who expected petting and presents. 

Supper was not over before he said half petu- 
lantly, “ A pretty mess you would have made of 
things if it had not been for Flint. I tell you he 
is a promising young man. It’s a good thing I 
came back when I did. Business was getting 
pretty tangled.” 

She made no reply, but sat with tightly com- 


8 4 


MINE INHERITANCE 


pressed lips. He waited a moment, then looked up 
with a quick surprised movement and asked, “ What 
were you about to say ? ” 

“ Nothing,” she answered ; w but I was think- 
ing, it is well that you have come, and it might 
have been better if you had not gone away at all.” 

She saw the gleam of triumph that came into his 
eyes, as he answered coolly, “ I think perhaps I am 
the best judge of that.” 

She bit her lip with vexation. She realized that 
he had made her do the thing that he intended her 
to do, given him an opportunity for a cutting 
reply. 

It shocked her to find how she had grown away 
from this man. He finished his supper in silence 
and left, without a word, for town. 

She was not more surprised at herself than he 
was to find her so quiet and self-contained. He 
did not enjoy it as much as he had thought he 
would. It gave him a vague sense of uneasiness. 
He liked to keep his own counsel, but he wanted 
her to talk, to tell him all she knew, as she had in 
her early married life. 

When she talked he found out what she and 
others thought, all of which he liked to know. 
Then if he was vexed, he knew better how to vent 


THE MAN OF THE HOUSE 85 


his ill humor by worrying her. Now that she had 
grown quiet, it gave her a new strength and 
dignity. 

He could not discover her vulnerable point so 
readily. Decidedly he did not like this change in 
her, though he had failed to notice her failing 
health. 


CHAPTER XII 


CLIMBING 

O NE sunny afternoon in May, Mrs. Mc- 
Arthur went visiting, mammy went to 
town, and when Mona came home from 
school, she found no one at home. She played a 
little while indoors, but soon grew lonely. The 
house seemed so strange and quiet when mamma 
was away. She decided to go out into the garden. 
The big jasmine bushes were great fragrant bouquets 
of large velvety blossoms and glossy dark leaves, 
the orange trees were covered with small green 
fruit, and scattered everywhere were masses of roses 
and geraniums. It was a beautiful flower garden, 
and to Mona an ever varying delight. She never 
wearied of color, vivid brilliant color, and the gar- 
den satisfied her longer than the stillness of the 
house. But even this did not last. She had been 
sitting in school all day and now her whole restless 
body called for action. She looked down at the little 
boat tied on the river bank below the house. “ Oh, 
if Davie were here we could have such a fine boat 
ride,” she thought wistfully. She knew that she 
86 


CLIMBING 


87 


must not attempt to go alone, so, with a single look 
down the inviting river, she turned resolutely away, 
because that was forbidden unless Davie could ac- 
company her. Presently she espied the big sweet- 
gum tree at the end of the house. She could not 
remember the time it had not invited her to its cool 
depths. She had always intended to climb to the 
very top of it, some day. Why not do so now ? 
There was nobody here to forbid it, and it had 
never been forbidden. 

She had been looking on the map of a u jogaphy ” 
to-day, and was surprised to find such a tiny space 
between them and the Gulf. It occurred to her 
that if she climbed that tree she might possibly see 
the Gulf. 

She had no difficulty in climbing as high as she 
liked. She was disappointed in not seeing the Gulf, 
but decided that it was because there were so many 
tall trees between. Her disappointment was speed- 
ily swallowed up in delight at what she did see. 
The river wound in and out through the luxuriant 
forest like a shimmering ribbon fringed with palmet- 
tos, beneath the gigantic shade trees that were not 
sufficiently clothed with their own foliage but must 
needs be draped in trailing vines and long Spanish 
moss, while beneath all this, wherever the pal- 


88 


MINE INHERITANCE 


mettos had not taken possession, was a bewildering 
mass of undergrowth of all the varying shades of 
green imaginable. By simply turning her head, she 
could look up the dusty street, running back of 
their house, past the court-house surrounded by the 
village stores, and on to the seemingly interminable 
forest beyond. She could see all the passers-by, 
some hurrying on their way to town, others taking 
a leisurely stroll down the river walk. It filled this 
warm-hearted child of the South with a sense of 
longing to share her pleasure with some one. Oh 
— if mamma or Davie would only come so she 
could talk to them about it ! Presently she felt she 
could bear it no longer, and started to go down in 
search of companionship, but it seemed such a long 
way from limb to limb that she grew frightened and 
dared go no farther, but sat on a big limb with one 
arm around the tree. She waited until she was 
thoroughly tired, then she saw, not her mother, but 
her father entering the gate. 

“ Oh, papa,” she called tremulously, “ won’t you 
please help me down ? ” 

“ Where are you ? ” he demanded, looking per- 
plexedly in every direction but the right one. 

“ Pm up in the big sweet-gum tree,” came the 
eager answer. 


CLIMBING 


89 

Instantly Mr. McArthur’s face became stern 
and forbidding. w What in the world do you 
mean by climbing that tree ? What kind of rais- 
ing is your mother giving you ? No, I shall not 
help you down. You may get down the best way 
you can, as a punishment for getting up there. 
You knew better than to climb that tree in the 
first place.” After these harsh words he went 
into the house. Presently he came out with a 
handful of papers. Without so much as a glance 
in her direction he called curtly, “ Where is your 
mother ? ” 

M I don’t know, sir,” Mona answered in a firm 
little voice from which all pleading had gone. He 
could not see her flashing eyes and hot, rebellious 
face as he went out the gate, or he would certainly 
have wanted to add to her punishment, for if there 
was one thing that Donald McArthur could not 
tolerate it was rebellion. He cared very little about 
dealing with people over whom he had no authority, 
but wherever he had the authority, he ruled with 
an iron hand. He passed on down the street, she 
watching him with clenched hands. After he had 
passed out of sight she said to herself, u The idea 
of his talking that way about my mamma. She is 
heaps and heaps better than he is. I am glad I 


MINE INHERITANCE 


90 

climbed the old tree anyhow, just ’cause he don’t 
like it.” 

It seemed a long time before any one else came. 
She could not imagine why her mother stayed so 
late. If her father had not made her so angry, she 
would have cried before this, but now her face 
burned and her throat ached until she felt as if she 
must choke. By and by she espied a schoolmate, 
Harry Saunders, coming up the street, and things 
took on a more cheerful aspect. True, Harry was 
a great tease, but perhaps he would help her and 
she, at least, wouldn’t be so lonesome. It was 
quite a subdued voice that called, u Oh, Harry, 
won’t you please help me down ? ” He looked 
about curiously, and she hastily called, u I’m up in 
the big sweet-gum tree and I can’t get down.” 

w Oh, that you, Mona ? ” Then he pointed his 
finger at her, laughed and called derisively, w Oh, 
Miss Tomboy, got up in a tree and afraid to come 
down ! Tomboy, afraid, afraid ! ” 

Again her anger rose as her tormentor came 
close beneath the tree. She gathered a handful of 
prickly balls swinging all about her and flung them 
at him with all her strength. She would have hit 
him full in the face, but he dodged and his derision 
increased. 


CLIMBING 


9i 


In the midst of this David appeared around the 
corner on his way home from work. He heard 
the commotion before he got in sight and gathered 
from the language of Mona’s tormentor what was 
the matter. Though a year or two younger, Harry 
was larger than David, but the latter was upon him 
in an instant. 

u Coward ! ” he hissed between his teeth, u to 
torment a little girl that way.” Then nothing 
more was said until the battle was over. David let 
Harry up and watched him go away limp and de- 
jected. When he had gotten his breath he called 
out, after the manner of his kind, u Whenever you 
want some more, just bother her and I’ll give it to 
you ! ” 

Harry turned and snarled some reply, but has- 
tened on down the street. Mona who had watched 
them eagerly, almost losing her balance in the ex- 
citement, now called out to her valiant knight, 
44 Oh, Davie, you’ll help me down, won’t you ? ” 

44 ’Course I will,” came the cheerful answer, 
and he was over the fence and up the tree in a 
twinkling. When he stood upon the limb just 
below and put his arm around her, she turned from 
the tree and flung both arms around his neck. 
44 Oh, Davie,” she sobbed with her head on his 


92 MINE INHERITANCE 

shoulder, “ I never was so glad to see you in all 
my life ! ” 

“ Is that so ? ” he inquired with a cheerful grin. 
He could easily keep her from falling, and finding 
the situation quite pleasant, he stood patiently with 
one arm around the tree and one around her until 
she had had a good cry. When she suggested it, 
he helped her from limb to limb until they reached 
the lowest, then he dropped lightly to the ground 
and called, u Now, Mona, you jump and I’ll catch 
you.” This done to his satisfaction, he went over 
and sat on the steps with her, rather hoping she 
needed more comforting. They talked and laughed 
until all traces of her recent troubles had vanished. 

Presently she glanced at him with her sharp eyes 
and cried, u Why, Davie, haven’t you been shav- 
ing ? ” 

“Yes,” he answered sheepishly, his face turn- 
ing crimson at the confession. 

As he said this, she looked at him soberly, 
edged away from him a trifle, then said, in a 
slow, reluctant tone, “ Davie, I love you as good 
as ever and I’m so much obliged to you for getting 
me out of the tree ; but, Davie, I didn’t know you 
were so big — you see you are not truly any kin to 
me, and — and — I am not going to kiss you any more, 


CLIMBING 


93 

’cause I don’t think it would be ladylike, do 
you ? ” 

He looked at her thoughtfully a moment, then 
with the barest glance in the direction of the sweet- 
gum tree, there came a slight twinkle in his eyes, 
but he laid his hand softly on the ruddy curls as 
he rose, saying, “All right, little girl ; ” after which 
he went home to his supper. 

Mona sat quite still until presently her mother 
came. As they went into the house together, the 
little girl inquired, 44 Davie is a funny boy, isn’t 
he, mamma ? ” 

44 Why, I suppose so, — most of them are,” an- 
swered Mrs. McArthur absently. 

The keen-eyed child, seeing that her mother was 
not in a humor to talk with her, gave up her in- 
tention of telling about the afternoon’s happenings. 
Mr. McArthur forgot all about it, so nothing more 
was said. 

While mammy was washing the supper dishes, 
Mona sidled into the kitchen and perched upon a 
little stool kept there for her especial use, by 
mammy. 

“Mammy, do you think it’s bad to climb 
trees ? ” 

Mammy looked about cautiously, then she 


94 


MINE INHERITANCE 


chuckled, “ Why, law, honey, your ma uster climb 
'em all the time. I remember one time she clomb 
a big tree an’ I had to go up and fetch her down, 
but that was out in the kentry. I don’t much 
’spec she’d a clomb ’em ef we had a lived in town. 
Your ma was a heap like you, honey, when she 
was little. She was mighty peart an’ frisky like.” 

Mona edged up closer. u Tell me about when 
mamma was little,” she begged. 

Mammy laughed a low laugh and began one of 
her tales, of which Mona never tired. 

When she was through, Mona slipped up and 
patted the black arm, saying yearningly, “ I love 
you, mammy.” 

u Bress your little heart, honey ! ” cried mammy, 
gathering the child into her ample embrace and 
planting a resounding kiss upon the rosy cheeks, 
u your mammy sho’ tinks a sight o’ you.” 


After supper David sat out on the front steps, 
while Mrs. Strong and the little girls were clearing 
away the dishes. He looked over into the Mc- 
Arthurs’ brightly lighted dining-room at Mona, 
who was eating her supper, and said to himself, 
w So she won’t kiss me any more.” Then his 


CLIMBING 


95 


face took on a look of purpose and he went on, 
u Some day when I am a man and she is a woman, 
I’ll marry her. Then I can kiss her as often as I 
like, and she won’t feel like it’s unladylike.” 
After making which declaration to himself, he 
smiled a queer little smile. 

Presently he heard Mrs. Strong say to one of the 
little girls, u I’d do it for Davie if I were you. 
He is such a good brother to you. I don’t know 
what we would ever do without him.” 

The face he turned towards the McArthurs’, 
after hearing that, was a very sober one, as he 
said to himself, w I wonder what Davie would 
have done without mamma for all these years.” 
After these sobering thoughts he went in and be- 
gan earnestly to work on his lessons. 


CHAPTER XIII 


A TURNING POINT 

T HROUGH Mrs. Strong’s faithful work 
the Sabbath-school and prayer-meeting 
had long since outgrown the neighbor- 
hood and had been moved to the rude little school- 
house. Through her efforts also there was preach- 
ing almost every Sunday forenoon at the school- 
house, so the prayer-meeting had been changed to 
Wednesday night. 

Since David and the twins had been old enough 
to accompany her, Mrs. Strong had insisted on 
their regular attendance upon these services with 
her. She had tried hard to get Mrs. McArthur, 
with Mona, to accompany her to the prayer-meet- 
ing, knowing her friend had need, in her sorrowful 
life, of all the comfort that religion gives. But 
Mrs. McArthur was not a religious woman. To 
her religion only meant added weight to her al- 
ready grief burdened heart. She made first one 
excuse, then another, for not going until Mrs. 
Strong ceased to urge it upon her. 

True Mrs. McArthur usually attended the eleven 
o’clock Sunday service, when there was one, and 
96 


A TURNING POINT 


97 


Mona continued to accompany David to the 
Sabbath-school, but with them both, this was rather 
from habit and a sense of respectability than any 
desire to worship. 

One Wednesday evening Mrs. Strong was pre- 
paring, as usual, to go to prayer-meeting, when 
David looked up and said, “ Mamma, it has been 
raining and the walks are rather muddy. It looks 
to me like it would be more comfortable to stay at 
home.” 

She looked at him with a thoughtful smile and 
answered softly, w My son, I profess to be a fol- 
lower of Christ. I know that he did not con- 
sider his own comfort when he died on the cross 
for your sins and mine, and we surely ought not to 
consider such a little discomfort as the mud from a 
shower, when his service calls us. If some one 
were sick or sad and I could help him by staying 
away, then it would be all right for me not to go; 
but to-night, I am sure I can help more by going, 
because there will probably be few there, and it 
might encourage them to have us come.” 

w All right,” he said with evident reluctance, and 
a longing glance at his new “ Prescott’s Conquest 
of Mexico,” which they had been reading aloud 
together. 


98 MINE INHERITANCE 

She saw the glance, but thought it wiser to say 
no more. 

David was unusually quiet that night. What 
Mrs. Strong had said about Christ not considering 
his own comfort when dying for the sins of David 
Strong had somehow impressed him with more 
force than anything of the kind had ever done be- 
fore. He had been taught ever since he could 
understand, that Christ died to save the world, but 
he had never before applied it to himself. On the 
contrary, he considered himself a very good boy 
and was altogether quite well satisfied with himself. 
He tried to do right every day, but to-night his life 
did not look so satisfactory as it had heretofore. 

He could look back upon a number of times when 
he had failed miserably ; besides, he must have done 
wrong, or Christ would not have found it necessary 
to die for him. His sins did not seem so great as 
the sins of some people, yet they must be great 
enough to condemn him, for he had been taught 
that nothing short of perfection could satisfy God, 
and as no one had perfection, Christ’s perfection 
could supply his lack of it and satisfy God’s de- 
mands. 

Of course, he had been taught all this, but it had 
never before taken personal hold upon him. He 


A TURNING POINT 


99 


had not thought of it except as applied to the world 
in general, but to-night the question had narrowed 
itself down to Christ and himself, and he knew that 
he must make a decision for or against Christ, be- 
fore he could satisfy his own heart. His life sud- 
denly seemed all wrong. He felt vexed that Mrs. 
Strong had roused him to think of this, and he 
strode moodily along by her side. He could think 
of so little real good that he had ever done. True he 
tried to be a dutiful son to her, but how much more 
he owed her than he could ever repay ! He had 
grown tired of hearing about gratitude to God, but 
somehow that had all taken a different aspect, and 
he suddenly despised himself. 

Next came the crowning thought, if he were to 
die to-night, Christ’s death could not help him, 
because he had not accepted the Son of God as 
his Saviour. At this thought a groan almost 
escaped him. 

Mrs. Strong cast anxious glances at his downcast 
head, as she chatted with the little girls on the way 
to prayer-meeting. Had she made a mistake in 
insisting upon coming to-night, against his wishes ? 
David was quite a big boy, taller than she, and 
beginning to look forward to manhood. She knew 
she could not long continue to control him as a 


100 


MINE INHERITANCE 


child. Day by day she found it necessary to con- 
sult his wishes more than formerly. By insisting 
on coming to prayer-meeting against his wishes 
she might drive him away from religion, instead of 
drawing him to it as she had so hoped to do. So 
she fell into silent prayer, leaving the little girls to 
entertain each other. 

She went into the meeting with a heavy prayer- 
ful heart, and the cry she sent up to God was, 
w Oh, Lord, make my boy a Christian.” 

There were few at the meeting, but it was a very 
spiritual one. Mrs. Strong felt greatly comforted. 
At the close, the leader, a saintly, white-haired old 
man, rose with shining eyes and said : “ Brethren 
and sisters, it is good to be here.” Mrs. Strong 
cast an anxious glance in David’s direction, but he 
was looking out of the window. She did not know 
it was with tear-dimmed, unseeing eyes. 

The speaker went on : “ We don’t usually give 
this invitation, but somehow I feel impressed to 
ask, if there are any here with hearts heavy because 
of their sins, who wish God’s children to pray for 
them, that they will tell us of it.” 

There was intense silence for a moment, then 
David slowly rose for an instant and sat down again 
without a word. 


A TURNING POINT 


IOI 


Mrs. Strong’s heart gave a great throb of joy. 
She had not made a mistake after all. All the way 
home she and David were both silent. As soon as 
they reached home, David started to his room. As 
he passed her, Mrs. Strong gave his hand a gentle 
pressure. He understood her eager sympathy, and 
bending over her chair, he reverently kissed her. 

Once in his room, he moved restlessly about for 
a few moments, then went out again into the night. 
It was dark, except for the stars, and they seemed 
such a long way off*, almost as far as God. David 
flung himself down upon the tender spring grass, 
strewn with fallen orange blossoms. The dark fra- 
grant stillness seemed to close down over him like 
the mighty hand of his Maker. He was nothing 
but a poor weak foolish child struggling against a 
loving father in a blind way, yet not knowing how 
to do otherwise. He sat up and leaned his hot 
weary head against the cool gate-post. It was the 
one from which Mona used to jump into his arms, 
and it brought, with its cooling surface, thoughts of 
her. With these thoughts came new temptation. 
He felt that he was about to cross into a new coun- 
try. But what about his little girl ? She did not 
care about being a Christian. Must he leave her 
behind and go forth alone to serve God ? If he 


102 


MINE INHERITANCE 


did, here their ways must begin to part. Instantly 
his conscience declared, w Thou shalt have no other 
gods before me.” With this the darkness grew 
deeper within than without, and the boy, filled with 
a strange horror of himself prayed, prayed with all 
his strength that God would take him and use him 
for his own glory. 

“ Whosoever believeth in him should not perish 
but have everlasting life. ,, As he thought of this, 
the belief on the Lord Jesus Christ filled him, and 
with this belief came peace and joy. The God of 
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was his God, and Jesus 
Christ was his Saviour. He stole in and knelt at 
Mrs. Strong’s bedside and said softly : 

u Mamma, it is all right.” 

She laid her hand on his bowed head with a cry 
of joy, then said earnestly, “ May God bless and 
use you for his glory, my son.” 

Far away upon the western banks of the 
Mississippi River a white-haired woman knelt and 
prayed : 

“ Oh, God, wherever my boy is to-night, watch 
over and protect him, and oh, loving Father, make 
him thine for Christ’s sake.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


A WAGER AND A SECRET 

A T fifteen, Mona McArthur promised to de- 
velop into quite a beauty. The dozen or 
so pale freckles which were across her nose 
in childhood had disappeared. Her hair, a dark but 
unquestioned red, shimmered and gleamed in the 
sunlight like burnished metal. Her eyes exactly 
matched her hair in color, warm luminous brown 
eyes that danced or softened with every passing 
thought. Her skin was of that beautiful transpar- 
ent texture, seldom seen in any other type and not 
frequent with this. She was not tall but her slender 
figure was as supple as a willow wand. Though 
popular with both the boys and girls of her set, al- 
ways bubbling over with fun and exuberant life, 
yet about her there was a certain reserve. She 
never grew confidential with any one but David. 
Had he gone more with her set, he would doubtless 
have kept her out of a good deal of mischief, but 
she and David found that their opportunities for 
quiet chats came seldomer as they grew older, for 
David was quite poor, and though this did not in 
103 


104 


MINE INHERITANCE 


the least affect their friendship, David had little 
time for the pleasures of youth, while Mona was 
left a great deal to her own devices. Her father 
was wrapped up in business, while her mother had 
become such an invalid that for days at a time she 
could not be disturbed. Though having a host of 
friends, Mona never cared to show any of them her 
inmost thoughts. She inherited a certain amount 
of her father’s secretiveness along with her mother’s 
warmth and tenderness. Her friends all liked to 
confide in her because she could keep their secrets 
as well as her own. They often laughingly com- 
plained that Mona could entertain a crowd indefi- 
nitely with her nonsense, yet never tell them any- 
thing worth knowing, when she did not wish to. 

One afternoon she and a dozen or more of her 
mates were returning from a boat ride. As they 
neared home the conversation turned upon David. 

u Poor old chap ! ” said one of the boys, u he 
wants to go to school pretty bad. I wish he had 
the chance of some of us fellows who don’t ap- 
preciate it.” 

“ Well, whether he gets an education or not, he 
is a square fellow.” 

“ I don’t like these pious folks, as a rule, but if 
they were all like David, I’d like to be one.” 


A WAGER AND A SECRET 105 

w I don’t believe he would tell a fib for anybody,” 
remarked one of the girls. 

w Oh, he’d do it for Mona,” lazily declared Harry 
Saunders. 

u No he wouldn’t, would he, Mona ? ” ques- 
tioned Max Oliver looking at her indignantly. 
But Mona was looking at Harry, who never let 
an opportunity pass to worry her, although he 
had good-naturedly forgotten the combat under 
the sweet-gum tree. She could not bear for Harry 
to have the best of her so she answered quite in- 
differently, 

“ Oh, yes, I think he would tell a story for me, 
if I were to ask him to.” 

“ Oh, get out, I bet he wouldn’t ! ” retorted Max 
stoutly. 

w What’ll you bet ? ” she demanded, facing around 
saucily. 

“ Anything you like,” declared Max gaily, 
“ since I’m sure to win.” 

w All right, we’ll see. I’ll wager you a plate of 
the best candy I can make, that he will tell a story 
for me, if I ask him. We will go right up town 
as soon as we fasten the boats, and meet him as he 
comes home to supper.” 

“ All right, I’ll bet you a pound of the best candy 


106 MINE INHERITANCE 

I can get in town that he won’t do it, and we’ll all 
go and see you try,” was the sturdy answer. 

They made short work of tying the boats, then 
the gay party scrambled up the bank and were off 
to find David. They did not go far before they 
met him. 

tc Oh, Davie,” began Mona, stopping eagerly in 
front of the rest, u I want you to do me a favor. 
The crowd are going for a moonlight boat ride to- 
night, and I know mamma won’t let me go with 
them, so I want you to go by and tell her that I 
am going to spend the evening at Daisy Oliver’s, 
and she and Max will bring me home at bedtime.” 
She looked up with eager, flushed face, and urged 
her cause so confidently that he hated to refuse her. 

M Why, Mona,” he said desperately, M do you 
want me to tell your mother a lie ? ” 

u Oh, Davie, just this once ! I never will ask 
you again if you will do it this time,” she urged. 
She was looking at him keenly for some sign of 
yielding, but she saw his face turn pale and his eyes 
darken with pain as he said huskily : 

“ Little girl ” Instantly she caught his arm 

between her hands and cried sharply : 

“ Oh, Davie, don’t, don’t! It is all a silly joke. 
Max bet me you wouldn’t tell a story for me, and 


A WAGER AND A SECRET 107 

I bet him you would. We are not going at all. I 
would rather lose my wager than have you look 
like that.” 

David’s lips stiffened perceptibly, then changed 
to a grave smile as he looked down into the brown 
eyes that had lost all of their mischief, and had 
suddenly grown so tender for the passing moment. 

The others shouted with merriment, teased Mona 
and chatted together with all the nonsense and 
abandon of youth, for a few minutes before sepa- 
rating to go to their several homes. 

Mona went meekly along by David’s side. 
Presently he looked down and asked, “ What made 
you do it, Mona ? ” 

She was dreading this question, but she promptly 
answered, “ I didn’t think much about it except 
that Harry sort of dared me to do it, and I could 
not bear for him to get ahead of me. I didn’t think 
how you would feel about it until I saw how I had 
hurt your feelings.” 

He smiled a sober, forgiving smile, and began at 
once to talk of something else. 

Presently she said in a low tone, 4< Davie, you 
don’t know how tired I get of staying at home. I 
know it’s dreadful to say it, and I wouldn’t tell 
anybody except you, but I feel sometimes like there 


io8 


MINE INHERITANCE 


wouldn’t be a soul on the place, unless it was 
mammy, who would care if I was to die to-mor- 
row.” 

u I wouldn’t say that,” interrupted David in a 
shocked voice. 

u I can’t help it, Davie, I believe it is so. Papa 
never speaks to me except when he wants to find 
fault, and I seem to be a continual worry to mamma 
along with her aches and pains. She doesn’t seem 
like she used to be, since she has been sick so 
much. I know it doesn’t sound well, but I just 
had to say it, and I couldn’t tell anybody but 
you.” 

“Maybe you imagine it,” he suggested sooth- 
ingly. 

u No, I don’t think I do,” she insisted. 

The sun was just setting, and the pale moon was 
far above the horizon as if impatient for the mon- 
arch of day to be gone so that her reign might 
begin. 

David and Mona had walked on silently for a 
few moments, something rather unusual for Mona. 
He looked up at the moon and said with unneces- 
sary energy, ' 

u The nights are so fine for rowing now,” 
then looked wistfully at the dimpling river. 


A WAGER AND A SECRET 109 

“ Oh, Davie, mamma would let me go with you 
anywhere. Let's go to-night. Oh, oh, it's so 
desperately lonesome at home, it makes me want to 
do dreadful things sometimes. Do let’s go ! ” 

She gesticulated excitedly as she talked, for 
though she bore the name of her father’s Scotch 
ancestors, the mother’s French blood claimed equal 
recognition in every movement of face and 
figure. 

David looked down at the eager face, and it was 
well for him that self-control was his inheritance. 

M Why, of course we will go,” he assented with 
alacrity. w Why shouldn’t we ? I am well up 
with my week’s work, and I think we deserve a 
lark. We haven’t taken one in a long time.” 

They parted at her gate, and she had barely fin- 
ished her supper when he was back again with the 
oars over his shoulder. Together they climbed 
down the steep grassy bank, she skipping grace- 
fully down the path winding in and out among the 
trees, he following her with a slow swinging stride, 
his broad shoulders and finely-modeled head tower- 
ing just above her. 

He chose to follow her for two reasons : first, 
because he liked to think he was where he could 
watch over and protect her from any possible evil j 


no 


MINE INHERITANCE 


and, again, he loved to watch her graceful move- 
ments and the shimmer of the moonbeams, as they 
filtered through the boughs of the trees and fell 
upon her hair. 

David was just budding into manhood. At 
twenty what doesn’t youth dare to dream ? Had 
he not five years ago vowed that some day this 
sunshiny creature should be his wife, and was he 
not waiting now only to have something for her to 
live upon ? If all this did seem farther off now 
than it had then, he could wait for such a wife. 
He realized that it took all he and Mrs. Strong 
could earn to keep the twins in school and support 
them all, so there seemed little chance of his be- 
ing able to marry for years to come ; but hope was 
as strong within him as youth and love, so never for 
a moment had he turned aside from the purpose of 
making her his wife. He had never tried to 
caress her since the day he helped her down from 
the sweet-gum tree, but the touch of her hand 
always thrilled him ; to be with her, as he was 
now, always filled him with a vague longing to 
seize her and carry her off, by force if need be, for 
his very own. Sometimes he was filled with re- 
bellion because he might not tell her all that was 
in his heart, but he was a cool-headed, sensible lad 



"DAVIE, I’M IN TROUBLE" 
























• I 


















. 














A WAGER AND A SECRET hi 


and as a rule was content, as he was to-night, to 
be with her and bide his time until she was older 
and he had some means of supporting her. 

Once in the boat, he swayed silently to and fro 
with the oars, feasting his eyes upon her as she 
sat before him in the glorifying moonlight. Her 
merry chatter rippled out on the night air to the 
accompaniment of the softly splashing oars, the 
gurgle of the water about the cypress trees along 
the shore, with now and then the sudden noise of 
some disturbed fish or alligator. 

By and by she too became silent and finally said 
in an excited, tremulous tone, that instantly caught 
his close attention, w Davie, Pm in trouble and I 
want you to help me.” 

“ All right,” he assented, with a cheerful smile, 
“you know I like to do that whenever I can.” 

She gave him a grateful glance, as she replied, 
“ Yes, I know you do, but — but this is different 
now” — her voice faltered, then stopped, and she 
busied herself with trailing her hand in the water, 
watching the bubbles that followed her fingers, 
» like strings of shining jewels. She wondered 
helplessly for a moment how to go on, with 
David’s keen eyes looking so straight at her while 
he waited very quietly for her to continue, letting 


1 12 


MINE INHERITANCE 


the boat drift meanwhile, that he might give his 
undivided attention to what she had to say. 

Presently she gathered courage and asked : 
w David, do you know that young Mr. Martin that 
came here last winter ? ” 

“ Ralph Martin ? Yes, he is a rather sorry 
chap,” was the grim reply. 

w Oh, I think you are mistaken. He seems to 
be such a nice young man. He has had a hard 
time, poor fellow. He has nobody to care about 
him, and he has gotten wild, but, Davie, he — he 
thinks lots of me and I do — of him.” 

There she had gotten it out at last. Her head 
was bent so low that she could not see the white 
stern face that stooped over her for a moment be- 
fore David thought of himself and drew back. 

Presently she collected her confused thoughts 
and continued, “ You see he wants me to marry 
him and help him to be a good man.” She wound 
up rather uncertainly. 

c< I don’t doubt it,” was the grim rejoinder. 

She looked at her old playmate in hurt surprise, 
then continued, u He says if I will help him he 
knows he can do right, but if I don’t he can’t help 
going straight to ruin. I do want to help him and 
do that much good in my poor little life. But, oh, 


A WAGER AND A SECRET 113 

Davie, you can help me so much! Won’t you 
please ? ” 

The sweet girlish voice trembled and she looked 
up with tearful pleading eyes, because David 
seemed suddenly unlike himself. He was making 
this so hard for her by his evident lack of sympathy, 
and it had been a great compliment, if he could 
only appreciate it, for her to tell him her first little 
love affair. 

w Do your father and mother know ? ” he ques- 
tioned gloomily. 

“ No, I haven’t told anybody but you,” she an- 
swered in a hurt tone, against which he struggled 
grimly. 

M Mona, you are too young for all that,” he 
urged desperately. 

u Oh, we are not going to be regularly engaged 
for a long time. I am just going to help him all I 
can. I knew you could do more than I could, be- 
cause you could hunt him up now and then in the 
evenings and keep him out of bad company. I 
thought you would do that for me.” 

Somehow David had suddenly grown so big and 
stern. Then pride came to her rescue and when 
David declared impatiently, “ That chap is not 
worth your little finger,” she drew herself up very 


MINE INHERITANCE 


114 

straight and answered in the coolest tone imagina- 
ble, w I don’t agree with you ; but don’t worry 
about it, I will manage some other way.” 

He knew that her pride was all that kept her 
from bursting into sobs. 

Silently he got out and tied up the boat. This 
done he held out his hands to assist her. She rose 
and came to him with her head very high. When 
she placed her hands in his he held them for a mo- 
ment and said penitently : “ Little girl, I was a 
selfish brute about it. Of course, I’ll help you all 
I can. I couldn’t bear to think of your going away 
from your old playmate. We have always had 
such good times together. But I will do my best 
for your sake, though I do honestly believe you will 
be disappointed in Martin.” 

“ Thank you, Davie, but I am sure you are the 
one who is mistaken.” 

They went up the bank together ; she tripping 
lightly, full of hope ; he devouring her with greedy 
eyes while a fierce young jealousy gnawed at his 
heart. 


CHAPTER XV 


FOR MONA 

u THY, how do you do, Mona?” ex- 

%/ claimed Mrs. Strong’s cheerful voice 
as the young girl came in one after- 
noon, a few days after the events of the last 
chapter. 

44 Oh, I’m dreadful sick,” declared Mona laugh- 
ing, as she brought a chair and sat down by the 
older woman, quite as if she were at home. 

“Yes, you look sick,” declared Mrs. Strong, 
admiring the rosy face and buoyant step as she 
spoke. She was a woman who made every boy 
and girl she met feel her interest in them, for she 
loved young people more than anything else in the 
world. She liked to joke with them, enter into all 
their fun and see them happy. She would spare 
no effort to give them wholesome pleasure, but she 
did not hesitate to condemn what she thought was 
not best for them. 

* 

44 Mrs. Strong, I wanted to talk to you about 
Davie,” began Mona taking off her sunbonnet and 
fanning herself vigorously with it. 

”5 


1 1 6 MINE INHERITANCE 

“ What about Davie ? ” inquired the good lady 
a trifle anxiously. 

u Well, you see I have been begging him to take 
dancing lessons. There is a teacher here and a 
lot of us are taking. I think he needs to have 
more fun and we all love to have him.” 

“ What does he say ? ” asked Mrs. Strong 
quietly, but there was a slight pucker in her 
forehead. 

w Oh, a lot of grandfathery stuff about not hav- 
ing time for such things and about enjoying other 
pleasures more, but I think it would be good for 
him and we shall have such a lot of fun. All of 
our crowd take, and most of us are learning right 
along, especially Mr. Martin. The dancing-master 
says he is so intelligent, he is learning to dance 
beautifully,” declared Mona, stopping to get her 
breath. 

u I never heard of anybody’s intelligence being 
in his heels before,” remarked Mrs. Strong as 
she bit off her thread and began another button- 
hole. 

“ Do you think dancing wicked, Mrs. Strong ? ” 

“ Oh, no, I never classed it with murder or 
theft, but I do think a great deal of valuable time 
is wasted upon it, by young people who should 


FOR MONA 


117 

be training their heads more and their feet less; 
though I believe it is possible for a great deal of 
harm to come from it, and I don't think professing 
Christians have any time to waste that way." 

“ Oh, dear ! " sighed Mona dismally ; “ I was 
counting on you helping me to persuade David." 

“ Well, dear, I am sorry for your disappoint- 
ment, but I must confess I am glad David takes 
such a sensible view of the matter, for we are very 
poor, Mona. I, too, wish that David had more 
pleasure, but it would be extremely foolish for him 
to take the money, which he needs for more useful 
things, and the time, which would take his rest 
and unfit him for work, all to spend for nothing 
more profitable than dancing. I love to see young 
people have a good time as much as anybody, but 
to such exciting entertainment as dancing they are 
apt to devote too much time and too much strength. 
Some people claim it is healthy exercise. Possibly 
it is, if taken in moderation, but few people ever 
take it moderately, and I believe a great many more 
injure their health by dancing than ever derive any 
benefit from it. Nor do I believe it ever made 

i 

any boy more manly or any girl more womanly to 
dance." 

“Maybe not," was the sober answer, “but I 


j 1 8 MINE INHERITANCE 

can’t help wanting Davie to share all my good 
times.” 

“ I am glad you feel so about him,” answered 
Mrs. Strong, patting the rosy cheek affectionately. 

The girl looked at her with longing in her eyes, 
then throwing her arms impulsively about the good 
woman’s neck she said, “ If we had such jolly 
times at our house as you do over here, I don’t 
believe I’d care much more about it than Davie 
does.” 

“ Why bless your heart, child, you are welcome 
to share our simple good times whenever you like,” 
was the sympathetic answer. 

Though Mona went on with her dancing les- 
sons, she did not ask Davie to join them any more, 
for which he was truly glad ; it had hurt him sorely 
to refuse her, especially as it would have given him 
the opportunity of being much more in her society. 
But he consoled himself by promptly seeking ways 
of keeping his promise concerning Martin. He 
hunted up his new charge, a good-natured, popular 
young person, who was swayed by every passing 
wind that blew. David sought to win his friend- 
ship, though he did not fancy the task, for now he 
must take a greater part of the little time he had 
heretofore spent with Mona, trying to make an- 


FOR MONA 


119 

other man worthy of her, whom he wanted for 
himself more than anything else in the world. 

It was not his way, however, to do things by 
halves. Having given Mona his promise, he cul- 
tivated Ralph Martin as assiduously as if it had 
been one of his greatest pleasures. 

Martin responded heartily to his friendliness, be- 
cause he loved friends, and also because David was 
known as a steady, promising young man. For 
some time things went very nicely. The fall and 
winter passed and they succeeded in keeping 
Martin sober through the Christmas holidays. 
David took renewed interest after this achieve- 
ment, especially as Mona seemed to be losing en- 
thusiasm over her happy-go-lucky sweetheart. As 
her interest waned David’s naturally grew. 

By spring he began to feel that his charge was 
comparatively safe, after six months of sobriety, 
and relaxed his vigilance. 

With the first hot lazy days of spring, Martin 
went out on a fishing expedition, with some of his 
former wild companions. When David learned 
that he was gone, he looked grave, but did not 
mention it to Mona, hoping it would turn out all 
right. But it was all wrong with Martin. He 
came back to town hilariously drunk. Unfortu- 


120 


MINE INHERITANCE 


nately, the first man he met, after leaving his com- 
panions, was Mr. McArthur. Then and there a 
drunken desire seized the young man to plead his 
cause. He laid an affectionate hand upon that 
important person's arm and proceeded to urge his 
suit with intoxicated fervor. 

Mr. McArthur shook him off contemptuously, 
at which Martin looked up in drunken surprise 
for a moment, then, as if the other had spoken, 
said, 

u But she — she is in l-love with me. Why, sir, 
any lady in th-this town would be p-proud to have 
Ralph Martin in 1-love with her. Yes, s-sir, I am 
going to marry M-Mona right away." 

Mr. McArthur again shook him off and hurried 
home to find Mona. He was filled with rage that 
such a person should speak so familiarly of any one 
connected with himself, and was fully determined 
to sift the matter to the bottom. There was a bad 
half-hour for Mona and her mother when he did 
reach them. The mother, a wreck of her former 
self, endeavored to smooth things over without 
really comprehending what it was all about. She 
only succeeded in giving her husband the impression 
that she knew all about it, and was trying to con- 
ceal it from him. 


FOR MONA 


in 

When he turned impatiently from her to Mona 
for an explanation, the latter set her red lips 
together, tossed her head and gave ample evidence 
that she intended to stand her ground. Down 
in her heart she was tired and out of patience 
with Martin, but under the circumstances she did 
not intend to admit it. When her father inquired 
if she were engaged to the young scapegrace, she 
answered quite coolly : 

“ No, sir, but I intend to be as soon as I am old 
enough.” 

By her manner it was evidently her opinion that 
it would not be long. 

Her mother, aghast both at her confession and 
her audacity, made distressed signals to Mona to 
be more submissive in her father’s presence. Both 
father and daughter were perfectly aware of these 
signals from the poor feeble woman, but neither 
gave them any attention ; for Mona was gathering 
her forces for the combat, while Mr. McArthur 
was rejoicing in the crushing of another rebellious 
spirit, which he was now about to accomplish. 
His lip curled as, with exaggerated politeness, he 
, inquired when she expected to marry Mr. Martin. 
For years this manner had been quite sufficient to 
crush her mother, and he had no doubt of its con- 


122 


MINE INHERITANCE 


quering Mona, but she had more of his own 
determination, nor had she been brow-beaten for 
years, as her mother had. Down in her heart she 
did not really intend marrying young Martin at all, 
but she answered with equal politeness, though 
without her father's scorn, that it was quite out of 
the question for them to marry soon, as she was 
entirely too young and Mr. Martin was not earning 
enough to support them both. The coolness of 
her reply threw her father into a perfect fury, and 
he proceeded to portray to her, in rather strong 
language, Martin’s present condition, and his dis- 
cussion upon the street of their relation. 

Though this filled her with loathing for her 
lover, she was too shrewd to betray it to her father. 
When he wound up his remarks by stating that 
she must either marry Martin at once and leave 
home, or have nothing more to do with him, she 
silently bowed her acquiescence, leaving him 
entirely in the dark as to which she intended 
doing. With this his stubby forefinger was leveled 
at her, and he said in a tone of unmistakable 
finality, u If you go with him, your connection 
with us ceases. I shall have nothing to do with 
that young sot or any one associated with him.” 
She still remained silent, and at a motion from him 


FOR MONA 


123 


left the room. As she went, she heard him ridi- 
culing her mother for her utter failure in raising a 
daughter worthy of the McArthur name. 

As soon as possible Mona hurried from the 
house and down the street, in the hope of meeting 
David. She was fully decided as to what she would 
do. She was too practical to rush blindly into mar- 
riage with a drunkard, for whom she no longer 
cared, simply to oppose her father. What she 
wanted now was David’s advice as to how to pro- 
ceed in carrying out her decision. She had not 
gone far when, on turning a corner, she suddenly 
came face to face with Ralph Martin, reeling and 
muttering as he came. On seeing her, he gave a 
start; then, making a great effort to act sensibly, 
he came up to her with an evident desire to show 
her his affection and to explain his present ap- 
pearance. 

Her father’s description had filled her with loath- 
ing ; to that was now added terror, for she had never 
come in contact with a drunken man before. As 
she stood listening to the maudlin words of the 
wretch beside her, casting about in her mind how 
to escape, her heart grew sick at the bare thought 
of becoming the wife of such a being. But the 
urgency of escaping the present clutch upon her 


MINE INHERITANCE 


arm brought her back to reality. She tried gently 
to disengage his hand, but she found that impos- 
sible, without a struggle. Pride both for him and 
for herself would not allow her to call for help, so 
she stood pondering what to do next, ' when she 
heard a cheerful whistling and looked around to 
find David rapidly approaching. 

w I’m glad I started home to supper early to- 
night,” he called gaily ; then taking in the situation 
at a glance, he asked in a sobered tone, “Say, 
couldn’t you folks walk back to Danver’s store 
with me a few minutes ? ” 

Mona knew that Martin’s room was over this 
store, and after exchanging significant glances with 
David she acquiesced and they started. David 
steadied the poor drunkard, who was still clinging 
with all his might to Mona’s arm. 

When they reached the foot of the stairs leading 
to his room David turned to him saying, ct Martin, 
I wish you would take me up to your room a mo- 
ment. Mona can wait here for us.” 

“ All right,” Martin muttered thickly. David 
half led, half carried him up to his room. Once 
there, he easily diverted the bewildered mind from 
Mona and persuaded him to lie down, promising to 
return after supper. 


FOR MONA 


125 


When the two had disappeared at the head of 
the stair, Mona looked about her, feeling grateful 
that it was not a very public corner and that no 
one was in sight. 

She sat down on the bottom step to rest until 
David returned, which he did in a very few min- 
utes. 

“ Poor little girl,” he said, sympathetically ; w I 
am sorry this happened.” 

“ I brought it on myself,” she answered 
brusquely ; but he noted in a quick side glance that 
she was pale, so pale that a few faint freckles showed 
across the clear-cut sensitive nose. Her eyes were 
bright with excitement, while the naturally full lips 
were drawn to a tight line. 

u I guess it’s about supper time. I had just 
started home when I met you,” suggested David, 
endeavoring to divert her mind. He drew her arm 
through his and turned their steps homeward. They 
walked along together in silence for a short distance, 
then she turned with a quick catch in her voice and 
said, u Davie, don’t ever let him come near me 
again. Tell him I don’t want to see him any 
, more. Tell him anything that you think best, but 
don’t let him come. Oh, you can’t know how 
disgusting he has become to me ! You won’t let 


126 


MINE INHERITANCE 


him come, will you, Davie ? Oh, Davie, please 
take care of me ; nobody understands but you.” 

“ Of course I will,” he declared reassuringly. 

After this they walked on in silence again until 
they reached her gate. As he held it open for her 
to pass in, she stopped in the open gateway long 
enough to lay an impulsive hand upon his arm as 
she said gratefully, u Davie, I don’t know what I 
should ever do without you.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


RALPH MARTIN 


A FTER supper David picked up his hat to 
go down to see about Martin. 

Mrs. Strong looked up anxiously and 


asked : 

u Going to town, Davie ? ” 

u Yes, mamma.” 

u I was hoping you had quit going to town so 
much at night. I don’t think it’s a good plan, be- 
sides it takes you away from your study.” 

He stood a moment, silently twirling his hat, 
then he answered slowly : 

“ I haven’t done anything that you would be 
ashamed of, mamma. Martin is in trouble again, 
and I promised him I would come back and stay 
with him awhile.” 

“ Is he ? ” she asked sadly. u Poor fellow, I am 
sorry for him. But, Davie, my dear boy, don’t let 
him lead you into temptation. I can’t see why you 
cling to him. I don’t believe you can be much help 
to him and — oh, my dear, you are all I have.” 

127 


128 


MINE INHERITANCE 


He smiled tenderly and answered, “ I would try 
to be the best man I could just for your sake, even 
if there was no other reason.” After kissing her 
fondly, he went out wishing that she understood, 
and walked briskly up the street. As he passed 
Mr. McArthur’s house, Mona’s slim white hand 
waved to him from her window, after which his 
pace unconsciously quickened. It was a comfort 
that she understood. 

When David reached the foot of the stair lead- 
ing to Martin’s room, he suddenly paused. From 
the window above streamed a bright light, and by 
the sounds proceeding from the same direction, he 
knew that Martin was up and drinking again. 

The store over which this room was located was 
a long two-story wooden building. The upper 
story was divided into one large and one smaller 
room. The large one was reached by a stair on 
the inside and was used for storing goods. The 
smaller room, in front, had been arranged for an 
office, but as the little town built northward, this 
locality had lost its popularity and the office had 
finally been rented for a bedroom. The means of 
approaching it was by an outside stair, beginning 
at one of the rear corners of the building and 
leading up to a small landing at the room door. 


RALPH MARTIN 


129 


It was a very comfortable room, having two large 
windows extending down to the floor, just over the 
little porch in front of the lower story. 

Martin was occupying the room alone just now, 
and David could tell from the voices floating down 
to him, that he and his old cronies were making a 
night of it. He hesitated a moment, debating as 
to whether he should gain anything by going” up, 
but decided that it would at least do no harm, and 
he would be keeping his promise. When he 
reached the door he could hear Martin and one of 
his associates quarreling loudly. His knock was 
answered by a third voice, evidently nearer the 
door. He entered and found the owner of this 
voice lying on the floor, blinking stupidly at the 
ceiling. The other visitor sat by a table in the 
centre of the room, while Martin had his chair 
tilted back by one of the open front windows. 
Just as David closed the door behind him, Martin 
sprang to his feet and tried to hurl his chair at the 
partner of his quarrel, but instead, it fell from his 
nerveless grasp, his foot slipped and he fell back- 
ward out of the window. David sprang hastily to 
the window, only to see Martin roll from the edge 
of the sloping porch roof, and the next instant he 
heard a dull thud upon the street below, then all 


i3° 


MINE INHERITANCE 


was still. David, with the others struggling after 
him, flew down the stairs and around to the front 
of the store where lay the poor pitiful thing, that 
had been gay young Martin. He lay so still in 
the cold white moonlight that it made David 
shudder as he bent over him. The body had 
evidently rolled over after falling, for just below 
the curling blond hair, on his left temple was a 
dark spot, from which the blood was oozing. It 
undoubtedly had been made by the corner of the 
step, which he must have struck in his fall. The 
others were quite sober now, and together they 
carried him up the stairs and laid him on the bed. 
One was immediately dispatched for the doctor, 
while David and the other remained to do the little 
in their power. The doctor came presently, but 
nothing could be done. The heedless, handsome 
young man had reaped the sowing of a dissolute 
ancestry just a little sooner and a little more sud- 
denly than most of his kind. 

After everything was put to rights, the dead 
man’s two companions begged to be allowed to 
remain with him through the night, while David, 
as soon as possible, hurried to break the sad news 
to Mona. He found her curled up in a big chair 
on the veranda looking quite lonely and sad. 


RALPH MARTIN 


I 3 I 

44 Where is your father ? ” he asked as he drew 
himself a chair up beside hers. 

44 Oh, he is down at the office,” as if no one 
ever expected him to be anywhere else. 

44 Your mother ? ” he questioned next. 

44 Mamma went to her room directly after 
supper. David, what makes you look so queer p 
Have you seen R — Mr. Martin ? Oh, David, 
do tell me what is the matter ! ” exclaimed the girl 
imploringly. 

44 Yes, I have just come from Martin,” he re- 
plied slowly, wondering how he could finish the 
story. 

44 Is he sobered up any ? ” she whispered fear- 
fully. 

44 Yes, he is quite sober,” was the hesitating 
reply. 

44 Did, did you tell him not to — to never come 
near me any more ? ” she questioned incoherently. 

44 He won’t ever bother you again.” 

Something in David’s tone made her question 
fearfully , 44 What is the matter with him ? ” 

44 He fell from his window and ” David 

rhoked and could not continue. 

44 And he’s dead.” She finished the sentence 
with desperate calmness. 


i3 2 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Instinctively he put out his hand to her. She 
caught it between her own and bowing her face 
upon it, burst into long shuddering sobs. 

“ Oh, Davie, he is dead, and it’s all my fault ! 
We quarreled last week. He got mad and went 
on this trip to spite me. Oh, I have killed him, I 
have killed him, what shall I do ? ” she wailed. 

“ I’d try not to feel that way. You couldn’t go 
on always petting him and holding him up. This 
was bound to come sooner or later,” declared 
David huskily. 

“ I cannot help feeling that I am all to blame,” 
wailed the girl. 4C I grew tired of him and didn’t 
try as I should.” He said no more but softly 
stroked the bowed head with his disengaged 
hand. 

By and by the sobbing grew calmer and she 
looked up saying, 

“ Davie, I thought your God could do anything. 
Why didn’t he help you to prevent this ? ” 

He sprang up at the question, then remembering 
himself he sat down again and answered, “ God 
forgive me, I never asked him ; I tried to do it all 
by myself.” 

u Why, Davie, I thought you asked God to help 
you about everything ? ” she questioned wonder- 


RALPH MARTIN 


J 33 

ingly, for of all she knew David was the nearest to 
a model Christian. 

“ I ought to,” was the gloomy response ; w but I 
have grown careless.” 

Another silence followed, then he asked, “ Why 
do you speak of God as my God ? Is he not 
yours, too ? ” 

“ No,” she answered with painful frankness, “ I 
think I am a born heathen. I don’t believe I want 
a God. I have sometimes felt like I wished he 
were mine, that I could trust him as you do, and 
tell him my troubles, but if you couldn’t tell him 
about this, then I don’t care for him.” 

“ I could have told him and gotten his help, too. 
It was only my own carelessness and foolishness 
that made me do as I did,” cried David, more mis- 
erable than ever. He paused a moment, then went 
on, “ Oh, Mona, if you would only let him, he 
would comfort and help you now, in this trouble.” 

w No, I don’t think he could,” she answered 
wearily. lc At least, I don’t care to try the ex- 
periment just now. It is getting late, Davie, and 
you have your own work to do. You can’t help 
,me any more, now,” and her head drooped for just 
an instant against his shoulder. What would he 
not have given to take her in his arms and comfort 


r 34 


MINE INHERITANCE 


her poor distressed heart ? But he knew she wanted 
to be alone, and from her frequent glances up the 
street he guessed that she wished to go to her room 
before her father came, so he bade her a sad good- 
night and went home. He could not sleep, and 
finally gave up trying. An hour later Mona, 
crouching by her window, saw him pacing to and 
fro in the little flower garden, white and odorous 
with cape jasmines. “ Poor old fellow ! ” she mur- 
mured to herself ; M it’s troubling him as well as 
me,” and the lonely girl found comfort even in the 
companionship of misery ; but ever after she asso- 
ciated the odor of cape jasmines with that sorrow- 
ful night. 


CHAPTER XVII 


mona’s trouble 

O NE morning in August, after carefully 
dusting every room in the house and put- 
ting the few flowers that the heat had 
spared in the vases, Mona flung herself listlessly 
into a hammock on the veranda. Once settled she 
felt too indifferent to get up, but lay with her hands 
clasped above her head, idly enjoying, after a fash- 
ion, the scenery all about her. 

From one side, she could look up the principal 
street of the little town, with irregular partially 
shaded walks ; or out across the gleaming river, as 
it slipped lazily by between green banks dotted 
with glossy palmettos, shaded by stately pines and 
gum trees, all draped in luxuriant vines or the long 
mournful gray moss, brightened here and there by 
wild flowers or scarlet berries. 

By simply turning her head, she had another view 
equally charming. Upon the back fence were 
perched a row of little pickaninnies, sunning them- 
selves and chattering together like so many black- 
birds. A little beyond them, their mothers went 
135 


1 3& 


MINE INHERITANCE 


about their cabins washing, hanging up long lines 
of snowy clothes, calling to each other or singing 
as they worked. Over their heads, as everywhere, 
were the tall pines and gnarled sweet-gum trees, 
with their long ragged veils of gray moss. Still 
back of this, the trees had been cut away. Men 
could be seen running to and fro or stacking in 
great even piles the long yellow pine planks that 
flashed in the morning sunlight, then fell with a re- 
sounding slam, one after another with the regularity 
of clockwork. Above it all, the busy hum of the 
sawmill whence the lumber came, could be plainly 
heard on the still morning air. Farther off were 
trees again, but so far away that all distinct outline 
was lost in a wonderful mass of ever-changing 
greens, grays and purples. 

As much as she loved it, Mona took a languid 
interest in it just now. All the various sounds 
combined to sing her a song of sorrow, while before 
every beauty of nature, there came the pale, haunt- 
ing face of Ralph Martin as she last saw it. 

By and by the noon whistles began to blow, but 
they only followed other notes in the mournful 
melody ; still she did not stir. David passed, but 
she would not have noticed him, had he not called 
cheerily to her. She did not heed the wistful look 


MONA’S TROUBLE 


*37 


upon his face as he noted her thin white hands, 
pale cheeks, slight figure and sad haunting eyes. 

As he turned in at his own gate, he thought, 
M What would I not give to have her as she was a 
year ago ? ” 

He went in to his dinner with a preoccupied 
manner, which Mrs. Strong was quick to notice ; 
but, knowing his aversion to having any change in 
himself mentioned, she went quietly on with her 
eating, waiting for him to speak of what was up- 
permost in his mind. 

Presently the unusual quiet aroused him and 
glancing up he asked in surprise, “ Why, where 
are the girls ? ” 

“ Poor boy, he is so troubled he did not even 
notice their absence,” thought Mrs. Strong, but 
she smiled pleasantly as she answered, u They are 
spending the day with a friend.” 

He relapsed into silence again for a few mo- 
ments, then pushing his plate of almost untasted 
food from him he said, “ Mamma, don’t you think 
Mona looks dreadful ? ” 

“ Yes,” she answered thoughtfully. “ This warm 
weather seems to have pulled her down pretty bad.” 

“ Do you really think it is that ? ” he questioned 
earnestly. 


MINE INHERITANCE 


138 

w No, I don’t,” she replied reluctantly. 

“ Mamma,” and his tone grew almost pathetic, 
ct what can I do for her ? ” 

“ I don’t believe you can do anything,” was the 
deliberate response. “ I’ll tell you what I will do 
though, I’ll go over and suggest to her mother that 
she ought to take Mona away somewhere for a 
change. It is very warm now and new people and 
new scenes might rouse her.” 

“ I wish you would do something,” said David 
gratefully. w It bothers me to see her like she is.” 
Then suddenly the care-worn face before him 
caught his eye. M You don’t look very well your- 
self,” he suggested, anxiously. u I wish you could 
take a trip, or at least hire a cook for a while so 
you could have a rest.” 

“ Oh, dear, no,” she cried merrily ; “ I don’t 
know any place in the world that I would rather be 
than right here; and, as to a cook, I wouldn’t 
know what to do with one. Besides if I kept a 
cook, how should I ever train my girls to be 
good cooks. Then, David, I have noticed that 
people who keep servants never have any private 
affairs. We haven’t any great secrets, yet I 
wouldn’t like to have all our little affairs discussed 
publicly.” 


MONA’S TROUBLE 


*39 


u My, my ! I didn’t know how objectionable a 
cook was,” he declared smiling. 

Then she said soberly, “We must all work, my 
son. I don’t intend that you shall always have 
your nose to the grindstone.” 

He made light of her anxiety about himself and 
hurried back to his work. 

“ Poor boy,” murmured the motherly soul, look- 
ing after him with swimming eyes, M he is good 
enough for any woman living, if he is my boy.” 

With busy, cheery Mrs. Strong to resolve was 
to act. She rapidly cleared up the dinner dishes, 
changed her dress, and getting her work hastened 
over to Ann McArthur’s, who was always pleased 
to have her spend the afternoon. 

They chatted quite cozily for a while, then Mrs. 
Strong came around to the object of her visit by 
asking, “ Where is Mona ? ” 

u I think she is around somewhere, reading. I 
don’t know what has come over Mona, she is so 
quiet and absent-minded of late. Why, you’d 
hardly know she was on the place,” declared Mrs. 
McArthur, fretfully. 

“ I don’t think she looks very well, Ann,” sug- 
gested Mrs. Strong, tentatively. 

u No, I don’t believe she does, Miss Bettie,” 


140 


MINE INHERITANCE 


declared Mrs. McArthur. Evidently it was the 
first time she had thought of it. She was too busy 
being ill herself, poor woman. w She hasn’t com- 
plained any,” went on the invalid, after a thought- 
ful pause. Then she asked abruptly, “ What do 
you suppose is the matter with her ? Maybe she 
is bilious.” 

Mrs. Strong put out her hand with an impatient 
gesture, but as quickly drew it back before the 
other noticed it. 

u Why, la, Ann, how do I know ? ” she asked 
evasively. 

She pityingly realized that this poor, colorless 
wreck had gotten beyond discretion in her wander- 
ing conversation, and so dared say nothing which 
she did not wish repeated to Mr. McArthur, or in 
fact, to any one who might chance to talk with 
her. 

u What would you do about her ? ” inquired 
Mrs. McArthur, plaintively. To have judged by 
the poor woman’s manner, one would have thought 
the care of a large family was upon her, a burden 
almost too heavy to be borne by such frail shoul- 
ders. Like many women, who had nothing to do, 
she thought she had far more than her share of 
responsibility. Had it not been for this cheerful, 


MONA'S TROUBLE 


Hi 

hard-working neighbor to brighten her life, she 
would doubtless have been plunged in continual 
gloom. Mr. McArthur had long since formed the 
habit of buying what he thought she needed, with- 
out consulting her, because he had so little respect 
for her judgment. To do him justice, however, 
he never bought stingily, for he took a pride in 
having his wife and daughter well clothed and his 
table well supplied, just as he did in having his 
horse well fed. As far as household duties were con- 
cerned, mammy'managed them all. The thought of 
disturbing her u poor sick mistiss ” would have 
aroused her greatest indignation. 

As Mona grew older, she had taken many light 
tasks upon herself, because she loved mammy or 
because she took a pride in having things in order. 
This greatly pleased the old negress, and in return 
she taught the girl a number of things about house- 
keeping. Mrs. Strong was employed to do their 
sewing, so there was nothing left to rouse Mrs. 
McArthur from her ailments. These she dwelt 
upon to the exclusion of almost everything else, 
until even the duty of training and caring for her 
one darling daughter became very irksome to her, 
and she had gradually come to look entirely to 
Mrs. Strong for direction in this. 


142 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Now that the latter had suggested to her that 
Mona was not as she should be, she instantly 
realized the truth of it, but at the same time, 
looked to her friend to say what should be done. 

w What would you do, Miss Bettie ? ” she in- 
quired again, as the other hesitated to answer. 

w Perhaps if you could take her off on a visit or 
something like that, it might do her good,” sug- 
gested Mrs. Strong, as if the idea had just occurred 
to her. 

The next morning as they prepared for break- 
fast, Mrs. McArthur asked, 

u Mr. McArthur, does Mona look pale to 
you ? ” 

“ Why, yes, perhaps so,” was his rather vague 
reply. 

M Miss Bettie and I were talking about it yester- 
day. I asked her what she reckoned was the mat- 
ter. She said she didn’t know, possibly a change 
would help her,” she continued. 

Mr. McArthur was evidently listening, and it 
was so seldom that he paid much heed to what 
she said nowadays, that she was loath to stop 
talking. 

“ Perhaps she does,” he agreed, for he had as 
much respect for Bettie Strong’s opinion as for that 


MONA’S TROUBLE 


H3 


of any one he knew. He agreed in such a final 
manner, however, that Mrs. McArthur did not ven- 
ture upon further conversation. 

At the supper-table, that night, Mr. McArthur 
said, u Mona, get your things ready to go off* to 
boarding-school. Tom Adkins is going to take 
his girl the first of September, and you are going 
with them.” 

Mona and her mother kept their eyes upon their 
plates in silence until the gate clicked after him on 
his way back to town. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A year’s change 

T HE few days given to Mona, in which to 
make her preparation for boarding-school, 
were so filled with excitement and re- 
sponsibility that she was effectually aroused, and 
David’s heart rejoiced to see her already improv- 
ing, now that she had something to take her mind 
off of her troubles. He felt sad at the thought of 
the coming separation from his old playmate, sad be- 
cause he knew he should be lonely without her, and 
also from fear of her growing away from him ; but 
he sternly resolved to keep up with her if he had 
to study half the night. Nothing could have proved 
more beneficial to Mona’s health and spirits, nor 
was she averse to going, although she felt, after her 
father announced his summary decision as to her 
going, that she might have been consulted in the 
matter. Still she accepted it quite cheerfully, only 
adding this slight to her dignity and age, to the 
already lengthy account against her father. She 
speedily passed this by, and her entrance into 
school proved even more entertaining than the 
144 


A YEAR’S CHANGE 


H5 

preparation for it. She readily made friends and 
was soon as popular with her new schoolmates as 
with the ones at home. The year passed swiftly 
and pleasantly for her, but it was a lonely year for 
David. He had occasional letters from her, 
through her mother, which were always promptly 
answered and returned by the same hand. He was 
intensely lonely at times, but worked all the harder 
because of it. He kept always before him the 
thought that she was going to be a polished, educated 
woman, and he was determined that she should not 
outgrow him or be ashamed of him. He had never, 
for a moment, feared for his parentage. He in- 
stinctively felt that sooner or later he should suc- 
cessfully search for his own people ; that when he 
found them he should be proud of their relation- 
ship, and he was determined that they, as well as 
Mona, should not be ashamed of him. He carried 
with him a sense of refinement and good breeding 
that withheld him from coarse vulgarity. He felt 
that he had a claim to an honorable family name 
waiting for him somewhere, and he must have a 
character worthy of it. If he never found his own 
name, then he must be an honor to the one so 
kindly lent him by his faithful foster-parents. 

Not only must he keep Mona from being 


146 


MINE INHERITANCE 


ashamed of him, but he must be worthy of her, 
when he asked her to be his wife. He had no 
patience with a man who could lightly throw away 
his youth, and then count it a virtue to grovel at 
some good woman’s feet, taking pride in his hu- 
mility. He believed in himself, with God to help 
him. He thought the world a goodly place in 
which to live, full of opportunity for him who was 
determined to succeed. He had made up his mind 
to be one of the successful. Slowly but steadily he 
had climbed from the position of office boy to that 
of assistant bookkeeper in the office of the busy 
humming sawmill. Perhaps some day he would 
have a big sawmill of his own, who could tell ? 
What may a man not dare to hope at twenty- 
two ? 

He had gone to night school and taken a fairly 
good business course. Between times he had read 
good substantial books that lay a good broad 
foundation, read carefully until his education com- 
pared favorably with any young man’s of his ac- 
quaintance. 

Of society he knew scarcely anything. The 
little knowledge he possessed was what he had 
gathered from his reading. In his little world he 
had no rules to guide him but his good common 


A YEAR’S CHANGE 


*47 

sense as to the fitness of things and his inborn 
fineness of nature. 

Such we find him on the perfect June night in 
which Mona was expected home from school. It 
was too warm to stay indoors, so Mrs. McArthur 
sat upon her veranda, with faithful mammy on the 
steps below her, while in the little honeysuckle 
covered bower over the way, the Strongs waited 
with equal impatience for Mona’s home-coming. 
Mrs. Strong, Bess and Maud called now and then 
to Mrs. McArthur, or speculated among them- 
selves as to the changes wrought by the year at 
boarding-school, in their merry young friend. 
David sat silent upon the steps below them. His 
square jaws were set firmly, and his eyes looking out 
above the high cheek bones, which betrayed some 
far off Indian ancestor, were bright and resolute. 

When he met Mona at the little depot half an 
hour later, she seemed the gladder of the two, but 
she gave vent to her feelings, while he always held 
his in check. 

They took up their old habits just where they 
had left off; going to church together on the 
Sabbath, he because of his deep vigorous piety, 
she because it was her habit; going for an oc- 
casional boat ride together before supper when 


148 


MINE INHERITANCE 


David came home in time, sometimes taking the 
twins with them, but oftener alone. Mona was 
her old bright self again, and David was content. 
The twins, perhaps a little jealous of his devotion 
to Mona, perhaps quite right in their view of the 
matter, often intimated that Mona had grown a 
trifle self-conceited, until David sternly silenced 
them by telling them in good plain English that 
Mona had a right to think well of herself, and 
even if she did take on some little boarding-school 
airs, she had entirely too much sense not to out- 
grow them. 

One Sunday afternoon David went over for a 
long chat. He found Mona buried in a big easy 
chair, her chin in one palm, staring disconsolately 
out of the window. After a glance he inquired : 

u What’s the matter ? ” 

M Oh, nothing much,” she answered with an 
evident effort to look more cheerful. He said no 
more, but drew up a chair beside her, knowing 
that she would confide her trouble to him pres- 
ently. 

“ Where is your mother ? ” he inquired, by way 
of starting a conversation, as he settled himself in 
the roomy old-fashioned chair. She gave him a 
quick curious look, wondering if he could, by any 


A YEAR’S CHANGE 


149 

possible chance, have known that her mother was 
the subject of her thoughts. 

But the look he gave back was of frank kindly 
interest, and she answered bitterly, “ She is asleep 
— as usual.” 

It was his turn to look at her in quick surprise. 
She met the look squarely and grasping the arms 
of her chair as if about to have a tooth drawn she 
asked, u Davie, how long has this morphine busi- 
ness been going on ? ” 

“ How did you find out? ” he inquired evasively. 

M Anybody can see it. Please answer my ques- 
tion,” she insisted. 

M For years, I think,” was his steady answer. 
He could not look at her now, but gazed out of 
the window. 

Her hand crept timidly over to the arm of his 
chair and instantly his fingers closed over it with a 
firm comforting clasp of sympathy. 

u I never knew until I came home this summer. 
I could see that she was different from other girls’ 
mothers, but I didn’t understand. Davie, it is 
so terrible. She has changed so much since I 
went away to school. I can’t believe she is going 

to live long, yet oh, Davie ! — I try so hard, 

but I can’t be sorry to think so.” 


150 


MINE INHERITANCE 


“ Oh, you mustn’t say that,” he murmured with 
dry lips. “She is your mother. Mamma is so 
good to me and I love her dearly, yet what 
wouldn’t I give to see my own mother.” 

u Even if she were like mine ? ” questioned 
Mona, anxiously. 

David thought a moment, then answered soberly, 
w Yes, I am sure I would.” 

u Perhaps you are right. What am I saying ? 
I know you are right,” she declared sadly ; “ but 
this was such a shock. Oh, you don’t know how 
it hurt me, Davie ! ” she gasped with a sob. 


CHAPTER XIX 


MRS. MCARTHUR 

S OME very busy days passed, after the oc- 
currences of the last chapter, in which David 
saw little of Mona. One cloudy Sunday 
morning he sauntered over to make her a little visit, 
before time for her to dress for church. Just as he 
entered the door, she came gaily down the long 
hall, with a broom in one hand and a turkey wing 
in the other. 

“ Can I do anything for you, sir ? ” she de- 
manded with a sweeping bow. 

“To be sure, you always can,” he answered 
smiling into the bright young face. 
w What ? ” she questioned. 

M Oh, you can always make me happy,” was the 
rather indefinite reply. 

“ Can I ? When did you learn to flatter ? ” 
she inquired saucily. 

w I never do,” he replied. 

Suddenly she tiptoed and took off his hat. 

“ Oh, I beg pardon, I forgot I had it on,” he 
apologized. 

151 


MINE INHERITANCE 


151 

“ That's all right," she said as she examined it 
critically. “ Say, Davie, this hat is too shabby for 
you to wear. Give it to me for a dust cap. I 
want it to take back to school with me," and she 
tucked the soft brown felt hat over her ruddy curls 
and peeped into the hall mirror to see the effect. 

David secretly wondered what she would do if 
he were to yield to temptation by catching her in 
his arms and kissing her, but he manfully crushed 
the desire and answered quite carelessly : 

w Of course you can have it, if you want it," 
although he knew he must wear his w Sunday " hat 
on all occasions until he drew his next month's 
salary. 

u Oh, thank you," she bubbled. M See, it just 
matches my hair, though the hat is brown and the 
hair red. Queer, isn't it ? " 

It remained cloudy all day, and with dark came 
a pouring rain. The Strongs were gathered about 
their cheerful sitting-room table after supper, en- 
joying the pleasant contrast of indoors with the 
outside, when there came a sudden rattling at the 
front door. Before David could reach it, Mona 
flung it wide open and stood on the threshold drip- 
ping wet, with David’s old hat pulled down over 
her curls, while her eyes were bright with terror. 


MRS. MCARTHUR 


*53 

a Oh, Davie, come quick ! Mamma wants you. 
She is so strange. I’m afraid she’s — she’s dying ! ” 
she cried above the roar of the rain. 

w Why, Davie, hurry. I’ll follow as soon 
as I can,” exclaimed Mrs. Strong ; but David 
needed no second bidding. Already he had on his 
“ slicker ” and had joined Mona on the steps. 
When he reached the ground he found it covered 
with water. Without a word, he turned and tak- 
ing Mona up in his arms, strode out of the gate and 
across to Mr. McArthur’s. At the gate a negro 
passed them and was dispatched in haste for Mr. 
McArthur and the doctor. 

w Oh, Davie,” murmured Mona as he put her 
down at her own door, “ please forget all the dread- 
ful things I said to you about mamma. I thought 
I meant it, but I was mistaken. I would give any- 
thing if I could just take them back.” 

u That’s all right,” he reassured her ; “ let’s both 
forget them. Run and change those wet clothes, 
and I will go and stay with your mother until you 
can come.” 

With a heavy heart he went up to the old fa- 
miliar room, where he had spent so many of his 
happy childhood hours. He found Mrs. McArthur 
conscious and very calm. She smiled faintly when 


*54 


MINE INHERITANCE 


he came to the bedside and said, in a weak voice, 
w I am dying, Davie. I thought you would come 
if I sent for you, especially by Mona, because you 
have always been so careful about her. Oh, Davie, 
keep on taking care of her for me, when I am gone ! 
After she is old enough to marry, I would rather you 
had her than any one else ; but Davie, if that doesn’t 
suit you and her, then watch over her and don’t let 
her marry any man unless she loves him ; but above 
everything else, don’t let any man marry her for 
what little property she may have. The most ter- 
rible thing that can come to a woman, is to love a 
man and awake to the fact that he has married her 
for her money. I don’t want her life wrecked as 
mine has been. Oh, Davie, I have been a poor 
excuse for a mother, but you will take care of her 
for me, won’t you ? ” She lay quite still from ex- 
haustion after this long speech, but the appeal in 
her eyes would have gone to his heart, even if her 
words had not. 

He answered solemnly , 11 Mrs. McArthur, if there 
is ever anything I can do for Mona’s happiness, 
rest assured I will do it. I think you understand 
that it is the dearest wish of my heart to make her 
my wife, if she will let me, as soon as she is old 
enough, and I am able to marry.” 


MRS. MCARTHUR 


15$ 

She nodded her head in assent. Before he could 
say any more, Mona entered and the conversation 
was at an end. Mona knelt by the bedside, and he 
stepped over to the window, feeling that this was a 
scene too sacred for any one else to witness. 

“ Oh, mamma, mamma ! ” murmured the girl in 
a voice she strove to keep calm, u please forgive 
all my carelessness and unkindness. I love you, 
mamma, truly, you don’t know how much ; but 
I haven’t treated you as I should. Please, 
mamma.” 

The suffering woman turned slightly, and her 
wasted hand passed over her child’s head in a feeble 
caress. 

u There is nothing to forgive, my darling. I 
haven’t been the mother that I should have been ; 
but pray God you may never understand the terri- 
ble bitterness of my life. I want you to learn how 
to be a Christian. I never could, somehow. Miss 
Bettie has had trouble, as well as I, but she has 
something in her life that I never had. I think it 
must be religion.” 

She said all this in a voice that sounded more 
natural than it had for years, then paused and closed 
her eyes while a terrible paroxysm of pain passed 
over the ashen face, which it was well the youthful 


156 


MINE INHERITANCE 


eyes, buried in the end of her pillow, did not see. 
After it was gone, Mrs. McArthur rested a mo- 
ment and then went on : u Somehow, I never could 
take hold of religion, but I know now that I did 
not try hard enough. The way has all been dark. 
Now I am dying, still in the dark, and nobody can 
help me.” 

Mona rose and putting her arm over her mother, 
kissed her tenderly and said, w Mamma, I never 
loved you so much as now. Let’s hope that you 
are mistaken. Oh, I want you to live ! Only 
think what good times we have missed together, 
and maybe we can have them yet.” 

The woman’s face brightened, then the light 
slowly died out and she sadly shook her head. 

“ No, it’s too late,” she whispered ; w but I am 
glad you thought of it. It has helped me so much 
for you to care. I thought nobody cared. Perhaps 
I have misjudged your father too. But, Mona, I 
want you to be a Christian. We have always said 
our prayers together every night, but I don’t think 
it has done either of us much good.” 

“ I’ll try, mamma,” promised the girl huskily. 

Steps were now heard on the stairs, and Mr. Mc- 
Arthur entered, followed by the doctor, Mrs. Strong 
and poor distressed mammy. 


MRS. MCARTHUR 


157 

On the husband’s face there was a look of an- 
noyance. 

The doctor hastened to examine his patient ; 
Mrs. Strong stood ready to do his bidding ; mammy 
sat in a corner, rocking herself to and fro in a 
helpless agony of grief, while Mona stood by her 
mother holding one cold wasted hand between her 
own, and eagerly watched the doctor’s face for 
some ray of hope. Mr. McArthur glanced once 
in the direction of his wife, then seating himself, 
he crossed one knee over the other and waited, with 
evident impatience, for whatever was to follow. 

Presently the sufferer opened her eyes and also 
looked with eager, questioning gaze at the doctor. 
To both her and Mona’s appeal, he silently shook 
his head and turning to Mrs. Strong he gave direc- 
tions for giving his patient temporary relief. At a 
word from his mother, David quickly lent his as- 
sistance, glad of something to do to relieve the 
strain. 

Mrs. McArthur lay quite still for a time ; then, 
opening her eyes, she looked eagerly around until 
she found her husband, when she spoke in a strange, 
husky voice : “ Mr. McArthur, Donald, I’m dying ; 
won’t you kiss me good-bye ? ” 

In her voice lay all the pent-up agony of years 


MINE INHERITANCE 


158 

of neglect, but he was insensible to it, and a swift 
shade of irritation passed over his face as he replied 
without stirring, “You are doing very nicely, Mrs. 
McArthur. ,, 

David could not resist giving Mona a quick look 
of sympathy, but she did not see him. The glance 
she flung at her father was not good to see ; then 
hastily putting her own feelings aside, she bent 
over her mother and whispered tenderly, “ Never 
mind, mamma, he doesn’t understand.” 

“ No, he doesn’t understand,” repeated the other 
wearily, and closed her eyes while a wan pinched 
'ook came into her face that had not been notice- 
able before. Mona kissed and caressed her, striving 
to atone for her father’s indifference, long after her 
mother ceased to respond. 

After a time, at a sign from the doctor, David 
drew her away and led her sobbing from the room. 
Down in the parlor he begged her to lie down on 
the couch to rest. 

u Oh, Davie, how could he, how could he ? It’s 
a terrible thing to despise your own father, and yet 
I can scarcely keep from it.” 

She flung her arms about his neck and sobbed 
out her misery upon his sympathetic breast. He 
soothed her as best he could, and finally succeeded 


MRS. MCARTHUR 


159 


in getting her to lie down, by promising to sit by 
her through the night. 

It was some time before she grew quiet, and near 
morning when she slept. When she awoke the 
first faint light of dawn was stealing in and faith- 
ful David still sat beside her. 

Seeing that she was awake, he stooped and kiss- 
ing her gently upon the forehead, saying, u I must 
go now ; but, little girl, whenever I can help you 
in any way, you must promise to call on me.” 

“ I will, Davie,” she promised gratefully ; “ but 
before you leave let’s go see mamma. You know 
we can’t see her much longer,” she added sorrow- 
fully. 

Hand in hand, like two frightened children, they 
slipped in to gaze again upon the now peaceful 
face. 


If Mona had found home lonely before, now it 
was doubly so. Mammy was her only company 
in the big deserted house. Frequently after every- 
thing was in order, she took her work to the sunny 
kitchen, the most cheerful room in the house, where 
she spent her morning with mammy. The faithful 
old negress bravely put aside her own grief to 
cheer “her chile,” as she endearingly called her 


160 MINE INHERITANCE 

young mistress. The girl’s reserve, peculiar in one 
of her temperament, shut out every one, even her 
tried friend, Mrs. Strong, in her hour of darkness. 
To none but David could she open her heart 
freely. Yet she did not say a great deal to him, 
although between them there was perfect under- 
standing. 

At first Mona shrank from her father’s presence 
with a feeling akin to loathing. Gradually this 
changed to pity, pity for his evident lack of feeling 
or affection. Had he known of it, this pity would 
doubtless have amused him, yet it saved her from 
hating him. She could overlook the fact that he 
had never shown any affection for herself, but his 
deliberate refusal to her dying mother’s starved 
heart had been a revelation of what had gone 
before and was almost more than she could bear. 

w But after all,” she reflected when she could 
think calmly upon the subject, “ an iceberg cannot 
help being cold, although its being helpless doesn’t 
make it any more comfortable to live by.” 

She also realized that she had not done her duty 
toward her mother and she determined not to lay 
up another burden for herself, by neglecting her 
father’s comfort; so she did all in her power to 
make the lonely home pleasant, while down in the 


MRS. MCARTHUR 161 

kitchen mammy muttered rebelliously at her wasted 
efforts on his behalf, and Mr. McArthur pursued 
the even tenor of his way, as if nothing had 
happened. 

School time was drawing near, and one morning 
Mona timidly broached the subject at the breakfast- 
table, by asking, u Papa, do you wish me to go back 
to school this year, or would you like to have me 
stay here with you ? ” 

w What ? Oh, you will go back to school, of 
course. I don’t need you,” he replied with evi- 
dent surprise. 

“ I thought you might get lonely,” she suggested 
in a tone which to a closer observer would have 
indicated mingled regret and relief. 

w I never get lonely,” he declared proudly, and 
she knew it was not an unselfish remark to make 
her comfortable but a simple statement of a fact. 

So the conversation ended, and, with a clear con- 
science, Mona got ready for school. 

David dreaded her going, yet for her sake he 
could but be glad. He knew better than any one 
else how lonely she was and that she was grieving 
more than was good for her. He did not have 
much time to give to her, for this happened to be 
a busy time in the office. 


162 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Late one Sunday afternoon, Mona sat at the 
piano playing, a thing she did exceptionally well, for 
a girl of her age. She was not a genius, but she 
had the soft, caressing touch of one who loved 
to play and could put her mood into her music. 
This time it was a sad, mournful air that crept 
from under her fingers, and wandered out on the 
Sabbath stillness. David, listening, knew that she 
needed cheering, and directly his dark head and 
broad shoulders appeared in the window at her 
side. She started, smiled, then begged him to 
come in, which he promptly did, right through 
the open window. 

“ Play some more,” he suggested, politely. 

u No, let’s talk,” she replied, closing the piano. 
u I can play when I get back to school, but I can- 
not talk to you then.” 

“ Except on paper,” he suggested hopefully. 

“Well, that has to be so seldom,” she objected, 
M and besides the mood I write in is gone so long 
before I get your answer,” she answered whim- 
sically. 

He smiled at her reply and said consolingly, 
“Yes, but it’s the best we can do while you are in 
school.” 

She nodded, then said abruptly, “ Davie, I didn’t 


MRS. MCARTHUR 163 

know I was so selfish — no,” as he started to 
interrupt her, “you listen a minute. Don't try 
to smooth it over, for my mind is made up about 
it. I know I haven’t thought much about pleas- 
ing other people, but I feel especially bad about 
not trying harder to please mamma and make her 
happier. It’s so lonely without her, but I don’t 
wish her back, because she suffered so, though I 
did at first. But I know now I could have given 
her so much pleasure, if I had tried, and that’s 
what hurts most of all.” 

They were both silent for a moment after she 
finished speaking, then David suggested, “ How 
would it do to begin now and try to do things the 
way she would want you to do ? ” 

Her face brightened at the suggestion and she 
answered, “ I think that is a good plan, Davie ; it 
will be such a comfort. I am so glad you sug- 
gested it to me.” 

He made no reply, but looked gratified, while she 
went on to talk of her school work and all the 
plans for the coming year. 

Presently she asked, “ Now, what are your 
plans ? You haven’t told me a thing about them 
in ages.” 

He laughed and answered, “ Oh, you don’t want 


164 


MINE INHERITANCE 


to bother with my poor, uncertain plans. They 
would be dull and hopeless beside yours.” 

u No, indeed, I do want to hear them.” 

He rose, and putting his hands in his pockets, 
strode the length of the room and back before he 
began. When he again stood facing her, his 
hands still in his pockets, he said deliberately, “ I 
mean some day to be the biggest lumberman in 
southeast Texas.” 

u Oh,” she said, her eyes twinkling with fun 
and admiration, “you don’t expect much. But, 
Davie, I wanted you to be a professional man.” 

u No, I can’t do that,” he replied promptly, as 
if expecting the remark. w I have thought it all 
over again and again. I know this is best. I can’t 
take the time, and haven’t the money to go away 
to school and learn a profession. I must make a 
living for us all and educate the girls. To be a 
lumberman, I earn my living and learn at the same 
time. Anyway, why is a professional man any 
better than a man who is able to give honest em- 
ployment to numbers of deserving workmen and so 
help them to support their families ? Why, Mona, 
you don’t know how much good a man can do in 
such a position, besides having honorable employ- 
ment for himself.” 


MRS. MCARTHUR 


165 

“ No, I guess not,” she answered soberly. w I 
was thinking only of you. I didn’t care much 
about the others. I want you to succeed, Davie.” 

“ Do you ? ” he questioned eagerly ; “ then I 
shall try all the harder for your sake, though that 
is the only chance I see for my success now.” 

u Flatterer,” she replied teasingly, then went on 
in a more serious tone. u But you have studied 
hard for so long, and I feel like it should come to 
more than that. I know plenty of nice boys who 
have gone off to the best schools, and still are not 
your mental equals. Even an ignorant man can 
succeed fairly well as a lumberman, and you have 
laid such a good foundation for a fine educa- 
tion.” 

u An educated, polished gentleman will show 
anywhere. Don’t worry about my hiding my 
light under a bushel. If I could make a good 
lumberman while ignorant, I can make a better 
one with an education. If I could have chosen, 
this would not have been my choice; but I recog- 
nize it as my one opportunity, and I must make the 
most of it. Of course, I want to make a culti- 
vated man, and be prepared to — to fill my place 
and ” 


He broke off suddenly, and she looked curiously 


1 66 


MINE INHERITANCE 


at the dull red that had suffused his face, nor did it 
pale under her scrutiny. 

u Play,” he commanded, opening the piano, and 
she did so with all the ability she possessed, while 
he listened with eager ears. 

When she had finished, he was his own com- 
posed self and she could not know how near he 
had come to telling her his chief ambition, in spite 
of himself. 


CHAPTER XX 


A GREAT REVIVAL 

T WO years passed with but little to inter- 
est our readers. Mona went to school, 
had her fun and her work, the usual 
number of ups and downs of every wide-awake 
schoolgirl’s life. She spent her summers at home 
in the same way she had always done, except for 
the fact that her mother was not there. She was 
gentle and more thoughtful, but otherwise the 
same. She kept her old friends, made new ones, 
and managed to have fairly good times at home as 
well as at school. 

David worked on with his same fixed purpose, 
having no thought for any girl but Mona, never 
doubting his ability to win her when the time came, 
never thinking of a possible rival. She seemed 
already to belong to him, to have always been his, 
which attitude she would doubtless have resented, 
could she have known of its existence. 

Being an only child, she readily accepted his de- 
votion as brotherliness. She was not a girl to have 
167 


i68 


MINE INHERITANCE 


many lovers. She was the confidential friend of 
half the boys she knew, as well as of the girls. 
She good-naturedly helped them all alike, caring 
little for love affairs of her own so long as she had 
plenty of friends and company. 

This was the condition of affairs when David 
escorted her to the depot on the day that she started 
off for her last year at school. 

Mammy waved the cup towel from the kitchen 
window and rejoiced that, “ next time my baby 
gwine ter come home ter stay.” 

Mrs. Strong looked hopefully after her and 
prayed the same prayer for Mona that she always 
prayed, that she might not inherit her father’s self- 
ishness nor her mother’s weakness. The twins 
waved their sunbonnets and thought how fine it 
must be to go away to boarding-school, while Mr. 
McArthur, who had bidden her a formal little fare- 
well, on his way to town wondered in his calculat- 
ing way, if all the money he was putting into her 
education was well invested. 

The idea of giving any of his time to her train- 
ing or companionship never entered his mind. He 
felt that his whole duty was done when he 
furnished her all the money she needed. So Mona 
went away with high hopes for her senior year at 


A GREAT REVIVAL 


169 


college. If she longed for her father to show a 
little more interest, at parting, or wondered if the 
Strongs would miss her very much, she said noth- 
ing about it, but kept a brave face and waved a 
smiling farewell. 


One raw chilly Sabbath in midwinter, Mrs. 
Strong was kept at home from church, with a cold. 
Though not daring to venture out in the chill wind, 
she was not really ill, and so, long before David 
and the girls came home from church, she had a 
smoking hot dinner prepared for them, while a 
bright fire burned upon the sitting-room hearth, 
and she sat before it thinking how pleasant it was 
to look for her children, and rejoicing that she 
had taken them into her life years ago. She was 
still entertaining herself with these comfortable 
thoughts when Maud rushed in followed, as usual, 
by Bess. 

As we have paid little attention to the twins, 
perhaps it is just as well to give the reader a better 
acquaintance with them now, as they stand before 
the only mother they have ever known. Maud is 
a wiry, slim, restless, black-eyed girl, brimful of 
energy and independence, who has always done the 


170 


MINE INHERITANCE 


managing for Bess as well as herself. Bess is 
plump, rosy, blue-eyed and docile. 

Naturally it now falls to Maud to tell the cause 
of their present excitement. 

“ Oh, mamma, what do you think ? Brother 
Post has resigned.” 

u What, is Brother Post going to desert our poor 
little church ? We have done poorly enough with 
him to preach to us twice a month, what will we 
do without any preacher at all ? ” 

Just at this moment David entered and con- 
firmed the bad news. They were all fond of the 
faithful white-haired pastor and grieved that failing 
health made it necessary for him to leave them. 
All through dinner they discussed the condition of 
affairs and wondered what was to be done next. 
Without exception this was a Christian household, 
and the loss of a pastor was a momentous disaster. 
Mrs. Strong’s years of faithful work and interest 
in religious matters had borne fruit in her own 
home as well as in the town, and these young peo- 
ple were deeply interested in whatever concerned 
the church. 

Naturally, Mrs. Strong was the first to recover 
her hopefulness. After they had discussed the 
matter gloomily for some time she said, “ Well, 


A GREAT REVIVAL 


* 7 * 

children, the Lord gave us Brother Post, and I am 
sure he can at least give us another just as good. 
I hate to give him up, but who knows, it may bring 
about a big revival, and no telling how many peo- 
ple converted and added to the church. Why, we 
can’t tell what the Lord may have in store for us,” 
and her face fairly shone with the enjoyment of 
her vision. 

David smiled gloomily and said, w It seems to 
me you are counting chickens before they are 
hatched.” 

She laughed good-naturedly as she replied, 
w Well, I have noticed that the people who never 
count their chickens before they hatch are not apt 
to count so many after. Besides, if you don’t 
count them before, sometimes you don’t get to 
count them at all. But, children, that does not 
apply in religious matters. The Lord is never 
uncertain. All the uncertainty is with us.” 

u But how do you hope to be benefited by 
Brother Post’s departure ? ” inquired Maud. 

“ Well, I believe the fact that he has to leave 
indicates that his work is done here. Perhaps a 
new pastor will arouse new interest and get some 
to work who are indifferent now. You know, dif- 
ferent men can reach different people. In the 


I?2 


MINE INHERITANCE 


meantime I think some of us have possibly been 
trusting Brother Post too much and the Lord too 
little.” 

After dinner was over, the dishes cleared away, 
and the girls had gone to their room, Mrs. Strong 
came back to the sitting-room, to find David 
stretched upon the home-made rug before the fire, 
as she thought, fast asleep. But just as she started 
to throw a large shawl over him, he turned his 
face toward her and asked, “ Mamma, what’s the 
use trying any longer ? I have tried, ever since I 
joined the church, to do my duty and make re- 
ligion attractive to the other boys, but I am the 
only one in our crowd that has ever even made a 
profession of religion. There are Christians 
enough living here to have made this a Christian 
town long before this, and yet, there were per- 
haps two or three dozen at Sunday-school, and as 
many at church. Now that. Brother Post is going 
away, I guess we will just have to give up.” 

She listened to him quietly until he was quite 
through, then going over to the table she got her 
well worn Bible, and without a word of explana- 
tion, read him the old story of Elijah’s discourage- 
ment. When she had finished reading and had 
closed the book, David looked up with a faint 


A GREAT REVIVAL 


1 73 


smile and asked, w So you think we have c seven 
thousand who have not bowed the knee to 
Baal ’ ? ” 

u Yes, comparatively,” she replied, then read 
again. This time it was the wonderful history 
of Pentecost. 

After a few moments of thoughtful silence he 
asked hesitatingly, w Do you think we fail, because 
we grow discouraged and don’t pray ? ” 

u Certainly, we are despondent and we rely upon 
ourselves rather than upon God. We try to work 
in Sabbath-school and all other church work upon 
our own ability, without God’s help. We don’t 
pray enough. There was a time when men and 
women shut themselves up to read and pray, but 
did not work for God. Now we go to the other 
extreme, think we must work all the time and do 
not take time to study God’s word and pray. 
They were always trying to take in without giving 
out anything, while we are trying to give out of 
our own righteousness and not stopping to draw 
on God for a fresh supply of the genuine article. 
If Christians would pray as they did before Pente- 
cost, we should see something happen. God is 
just as able now as he was then. The trouble is 
all with us ; we don’t depend upon him.” 


*74 


MINE INHERITANCE 


u I suppose you are right,” he answered mus- 
ingly ; u but what are we to do ? ” 

“ Do ? Well we can pray, you and I together. 
The Bible promises that when two or three of 
God’s children agree to ask for anything, God will 
give it to them. Now, Davie, you and I can agree 
to pray for a revival ; we can pray here together 
this afternoon, and we can continue to pray, and 
sooner or later, you may be sure, God will answer 
our prayers according to our faith.” 

w But why is God taking our pastor when we 
need him so much ? ” objected David. 

u I don’t know, I am sure, unless it is because 
we are depending upon Brother Post instead of 
God to do the work. But, son, whatever the 
reason is, we can trust that in his hands, for he is 
wiser than we and knows what is best,” was her 
cheerful reply. 

“ All right,” was David’s decision after evi- 
dent reluctance ; u we will go to work for a 
revival.” 

So they spent the rest of that dreary Sunday 
afternoon in praying and reading God’s promises 
to his people. Mrs. Strong selected the passages, 
and David read them aloud to her. He soon 
became almost as enthusiastic as she, for his 


A GREAT REVIVAL 175 

piety was genuine and he was thoroughly in 
earnest. 

He did not hesitate about praying aloud, for she 
had trained them all to pray with her from their 
childhood. 

David went out early to church that evening, 
with a heart full of hope. As soon as the old 
pastor came in, the young man went to him for a 
talk about what was uppermost in his mind. 

u The Lord be praised,” ejaculated the feeble, 
white-haired man. u My son, you have taught me a 
lesson. I have held on here longer than I ought, be- 
cause I feared to let these people go. The idea of 
God not being able to care for his own and having 
to depend upon a poor creature like me ! Now, 
I’ll tell you what we had best do : announce a 
prayer-meeting for next Sunday morning at eleven 
o’clock, as there will be no preaching then. I’ll 
get somebody to lead it, and you must invite every- 
body to come. I cannot remain with you, but I 
shall pray for God’s blessing upon your efforts. In 
the meantime, pray and ask everybody else, that 
you believe will be in earnest, to pray with you,” 
urged the preacher, into whom the young man’s 
enthusiasm seemed to have infused new vigor. 

After an earnest farewell sermon, he announced 


MINE INHERITANCE 


176 

the prayer-meeting for the following Sunday, and 
urged upon them its importance. 

The following Sabbath, the Strongs found seven 
present at the prayer-meeting, besides themselves, 
but all seemed depressed by the absence of the 
appointed leader. David, in his anxiety for suc- 
cess, even consented to take the place of the miss- 
ing leader, to Mrs. Strong’s great surprise and grat- 
ification. Before the service was over, all had be- 
come deeply interested. At Mrs. Strong’s sug- 
gestion, they appointed prayer-meetings at different 
homes about the town, one for each night in the 
coming week, with one at the church on the fol- 
lowing Sabbath at this same hour. 

The next Sabbath found thirty-five or forty pres- 
ent and the cottage prayer-meetings had been quite 
successful. By the third Sabbath there were fully 
a hundred present at the morning prayer service, 
and a deep earnestness pervaded the congregation. 
The cottage prayer-meetings were moved to the 
church, for want of room in the homes for the in- 
creasing number who wished to attend. At the 
close of the service on this Sunday, it was pro- 
posed to invite an evangelist who was holding a 
meeting in an adjoining town. The following 
Sabbath, the evangelist, Major Penn, was with 


A GREAT REVIVAL 


I 77 

them, ready to take hold of a meeting already well 
prepared for his leadership. 

These were wonderful days for David. He 
prayed as he worked, he prayed as he ate. It 
seemed to him that he could scarcely stop praying. 
His face fairly beamed with the joy of it. I doubt 
if any one in the town enjoyed the meeting so 
much as he and Mrs. Strong, but especially David. 
He had never been in a great revival before. 
u Did they have a revival ? ” you ask. 

Yes, and not only were the little handful of 
Christians revived, but the whole town was might- 
ily stirred. A whole family was converted in a 
night. Old men and young ones were swept mys- 
teriously from lives of sin into the Christ life. 
Fair youths and gray-haired men deep dyed with 
sin rose side by side to plead for the prayers of 
God's people. Need I add that it was a time of 
great and solemn rejoicing ? 

But the burden that lay heaviest upon David’s 
heart was that Mona was not there. He grieved 
over this long after the revival closed, and con- 
tinued to pray that he might also see her a Chris- 
tian. By and by there stole into his heart a com- 
forting peace concerning her. He felt that, sooner 
or later, he was to see her an earnest Christian, 


i?8 


MINE INHERITANCE 


and he recognized this calm as an answer to his 
prayer. Then and not until then could he throw 
himself upon God’s promises and wait patiently 
for the time to come. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE NEW PASTOR 

u "7^ JjT AMMA, we have called the new pas- 
I % / I tor,” reported David on coming in, one 
' Sunday evening from church. 

“Did they call the young brother Trueheart? ” 
she inquired with evident interest. 

“ Yes, ma’am,” then turning to the girls, who 
had remained at home with Mrs. Strong, he laugh- 
ingly said, “ Girls, you will have to set your caps 
for him. I think you would have about equal 
chances, as Bess plays the organ and Maud sings 
in the choir. Surely one of you ought to catch 
such a fine young fellow as he is.” 

Bess blushed a little, and Maud tossed her head 
saying, “ I don’t care to set my cap for anybody. 
I haven’t time for beaux,” all of which sounded 
very important, for Maud was taking a business 
course and hoped in another year to get a position as 
a stenographer. Looking forward to being a busi- 
ness woman, she felt that she had no time to throw 
away upon such pastime as getting married. 

179 


i8o 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Bess made no answer to David’s teasing. She 
could not deny her little romantic dreams, for Bess 
was the housewife and loved nothing better than 
the thought of some day having a cozy little home 
where everything would be kept in perfect order, 
and, incidentally, a good-looking young husband to 
enjoy it with her. A very commonplace little 
dream, but one that has made most girls happy at 
some time or other. 

u You might do a great deal worse than to marry 
some good man, Maud,” said Mrs. Strong, rather 
disapprovingly, for the happiness of the good 
woman’s past married life made her believe it the 
very best life for all women. 

“Yes, ma’am, but I might do a great deal 
better than to marry a sorry one,” responded 
Maud gaily. 

“ That is true ; but I had not thought of you 
marrying a sorry one,” replied the older woman. 

u Such things have happened, haven’t they, 
Betsy ? ” questioned David, pulling the blond 
sister’s hair playfully, as he read in her face that, 
as usual, she thought Maud must be right. 

“ When will the new pastor be here ? ” inquired 
Mrs. Strong, going back to the subject most im- 
portant to her. She was delighted to see her 


THE NEW PASTOR 181 

children taking so much interest in church work, 
and never lost an opportunity to encourage them. 
Nor was David’s suggestion, concerning the matri- 
monial opportunity, displeasing to her. The young 
minister would probably marry. Why shouldn’t 
it be one of her girls as well as another ? Down 
in her heart, she hoped to see them both happily 
married as soon as they were old enough, though 
she would not have said so, any more than they 
would have announced that they wished to marry. 

u He will be here next Saturday, and if you 
don’t mind, I should like to bring him here to stay 
over Sunday, or until he gets settled. He could 
share my room. I like him very much,” sug- 
gested David more seriously. 

“ Why certainly, we shall be glad to have him,” 
declared Mrs. Strong, to whom it never occurred 
to be ashamed of her humble circumstances. She 
began at once to plan for the good man’s enter- 
tainment. Of course Bess joined her plans, for 
they did all the housekeeping together. But Maud 
declined to take any share in the matter. 

“You can have the parson, Bess, if you can 
catch him. He is not my style and I haven’t 
time for him.” Then catching sight of her 
sister’s hurt expression at this teasing hint, she 


MINE INHERITANCE 


182 

went over and kissed her penitently, saying, “ He 
couldn’t help loving you, honey, if he gets to know 
you well enough,” which comforted Bess imme- 
diately, for nothing pleased her more than Maud’s 
occasional petting. 

To make a long story short, the minister came. 
He was so jolly, kind and pleasant that he not 
only won the Strongs, but also the whole church, 
and shortly had them all wide awake and hum- 
ming like a beehive. 

During the week he spent at the Strongs he 
showed an almost boyish pleasure in their home life. 
The second morning of his stay found him enveloped 
in one of Mrs. Strong’s capacious cook aprons, and 
plying the churn dasher as vigorously as if it were 
the most delightful employment imaginable, while 
he watched the mistress of the house and her pretty 
assistant tidy up the kitchen. 

He planned church work with David, praised 
Mrs. Strong’s cooking, joked with Maud, but 
silently watched Bess, the rosy little home-maker 
and his faithful organist. That young lady was 
seized with a sudden fit of perversity, never before 
known in her history. Feeling that the whole 
family was clearly aiming her at the minister’s 
head, she determined that she would have as little 


THE NEW PASTOR 183 

as possible to. do with him, beyond her duty as 
organist. 

Possibly the reader wonders where Bess acquired 
her skill in music. Mona, seeing her delight in 
it, had generously given her lessons during 
vacations. Then David, at Mona's suggestion, 
had procured her a small but sweet-toned cabinet 
organ, upon which she spent all her spare time in 
practice, until in a remarkably short time she could 
play their simple church music surprisingly well. 

Of course, Frank Trueheart took an interest in 
the church music, and finding this the only means 
of approaching his organist, he must needs come 
regularly to help her select hymns best adapted to 
his sermon. The hymns being such an important 
part of the service, this took a good deal of time. 
After they were selected, he frequently found it 
advisable that they practice them over together, at 
first with Maud and David ; but later these two, 
seeing how matters stood, escaped on one pretext 
or another, leaving Bess and the minister to prac- 
tice alone. She realized their motive and hard- 
ened her heart against him, but she could not 
refuse to sing with him, so her sweet soprano 
voice and his rich bass harmonizing more and 
more pleasantly with each other and the little old 


184 


MINE INHERITANCE 


organ, their practice gradually increased as the time 
passed. Finding it so pleasant they were loath to 
stop when once they began, so that from learning 
new hymns they soon fell into the habit of prac- 
ticing both old and new ones, all gaining in beauty, 
to each of the two devout young people, when 
sung by the other. By and by he could not resist 
suggesting tenderly how pleasant it would be for 
them to share, not only their songs, but their 
whole lives with each other. 

She was busy with the music and was not aware 
of her companion’s mood, until she heard his plead- 
ing words and looked up to find the earnest face 
bending very close to her own. She sprang up, 
declaring incoherently that such a thing was im- 
possible. But when he turned from her with a grave, 
distressed face, she suddenly discovered that he was 
the dearest object in her life. 

In a sudden panic at the bare thought of losing 
him or making him unhappy, she blushingly con- 
fessed to his intense delight that she was mis- 
taken. 

Why try to describe the rose-colored path they 
trod? To those who have gone that way, all 
descriptions are inadequate. To those who have 
not, the description is foolish. If you have not 


THE NEW PASTOR 185 

sung with your sweetheart, dear friend, perhaps 
you walked and talked on summer evenings, 
admiring the sunsets or the stars, while secretly 
longing to express your happiness but finding no 
words. At all events, beauty and harmony were 
yours, it matters not by what messenger they came 
to you. 


CHAPTER XXII 


COMMENCEMENT 


M 


AMMA,” announced David, one May 
morning, “ I have asked for a ten days’ 
vacation, and am going to see Mona 


graduate.” Then as Mrs. Strong looked at him 
in blank surprise, he continued hastily, “ Well, I 
haven’t had a vacation in three years. I want to 
be there when she graduates. I am sure her father 
won’t go, and she writes me that all the other girls 
have somebody coming,” he declared sturdily hold- 
ing his ground. 

u Suppose they can’t spare you,” she suggested. 

u They will have to. I am going,” he answered 
calmly. 

“ Even if you lose your position ? ” she ques- 
tioned anxiously. 

“ I think I could get another,” he answered 
smiling at her evident anxiety ; u but it will not be 
necessary. I am sure they can let me off for a 
week anyway.” 

“ I hope so,” she replied resignedly. 


186 


COMMENCEMENT 


187 

u Eve bought me a lot of new clothes too,” he 
continued as if anxious to confess the whole 
matter. “ I have a new suit, hat, shoes, shirts, 
handkerchiefs, collars and neckties,” he enumerated 
with evident relish. 

u Why David, have you gone crazy ? ” she 
demanded, suddenly dropping into a chair as if her 
strength had deserted her. 

u No, ma’am, but I needed them and I did not 
want Mona to be ashamed of me. The trip and 
the clothes will cost about all I have saved this 
year, but it doesn’t matter. I had to have the 
clothes anyway, only I wouldn’t have got them all 
at once.” 

She smiled and said, “Very well,” for she 
recognized that his decision was made, and from 
past experience she knew that no amount of dis- 
approval would materially alter his plans. “ After 
all, the dear boy deserves it and a great deal more 
besides,” she said to herself after she had carefully 
thought the matter over. 

By the time the new clothes were brought home 
in a shining new valise, she was quite ready to 
admire them and take pleasure in the coming trip. 

When he was dressed and bade them all good- 
bye on that bright first day of June, she was sure 


i88 


MINE INHERITANCE 


there was no handsomer young man to be found 
in the State than David, which opinion she con- 
fided to Maud and Bess to their great amusement 
and delight. They often teased her about her 
great pride in her big boy, which teasing she took 
good-naturedly, knowing that they were almost 
equally fond of him. 

But what was her pleasure compared with 
David’s ? They did not know that he had planned 
and looked forward to this for a whole year. It 
was with keen delight that he settled himself com- 
fortably in the car, delight that increased with every 
mile that swept before his fascinated gaze. He 
had that longing for travel that seems to possess 
all normal young men, yet he had traveled so little 
that even this short trip meant much to him. He 
felt a trifle awkward at first, for his knowledge of 
travel, like his knowledge of everything else 
outside of his work and his home, was made up 
almost entirely from the experience of others, or 
gained through his reading. But his awkwardness 
was not apparent to others. It only made him 
more dignified. With increasing interest he felt 
the mighty train sweep on. The u piney woods ” 
with its swamps, moss and luxuriant undergrowth 
passed, and they were out upon the open prairie 


COMMENCEMENT 


189 


with its broad fields of growing cane, vegetables, 
cotton and corn in endless profusion. There 
came to him an overpowering sense of grandeur 
as he flew past all this kaleidoscopic scenery, with 
pretty cottages dotting the landscape, the owners 
in the fields hard by, with an occasional town by 
the way of variety. He was looking out upon 
all this with an impartial eye, as the throbbing, 
roaring train swept on like a thing of life. He 
felt like throwing up the car window to shout to 
all the barefooted boys, or wave at the pretty chil- 
dren who clustered smiling about the cottage doors. 
But the best of it all was that at the end of his 
journey was — Mona, and a solid week of pleasure 
in her presence. 

By and by came the leaving of the train and 
the long drive in the stage on the seat with the 
driver, who gave him a detailed history of the 
country over which they were now passing. 

They arrived at Independence just at dusk, and 
it was full two hours before David had secured 
lodgings, had supper, arrayed himself in all the 
glory of his new clothes, shamefacedly practiced 
wearing them before the cracked mirror in his 
room, and finally presented himself at the college 
door. 


190 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Caesar — the ever-present body-guard for any- 
body belonging to the school , the colored genius 
whom everybody joked, took an interest in, and 
depended on for everything imaginable from a 
piece of furniture to the pantry key — received him 
at the door with as much dignity as the president 
himself could possibly have assumed. 

“ Miss Mona ? Oh, yessir, she is here. Will 
you please step into the library, ’cause they is 
already company in the parlor. I’ll speak to 
Dr. Hill, and he will have Miss Mona sent down 
right away.” 

While still speaking, he threw open the library 
door. He did not know that the seniors were 
holding their final class-meeting in the library, so 
how could he know that Mona, from the top of 
the big old library table, was making a speech 
which convulsed her hearers, while she gravely 
marched up and down the length of the table, 
mimicking every teacher in the faculty, by turns, 
skilfully weaving it all into her speech, and all the 
time turning upon them a face ludicrous with in- 
nocent surprise at their unnecessary merriment. 

David hesitated on the threshold for one embar- 
rassed moment, and then would have beat a hasty 
retreat, but Mona turned and saw him. With a 


COMMENCEMENT 


191 


quick, glad cry she called him to her. As he ap- 
proached the table upon which she stood, there 
came vividly to his mind a vision of long ago, 
when Mona jumped from the gate-post into his 
arms. Evidently in the excitement of seeing him, 
she had forgotten herself and contemplated doing 
something of the same kind now, for she looked 
quite ready to spring into his arms like an impul- 
sive child. She scarcely seemed more than a child, 
as she stood there in her innocent frivolity. See- 
ing her reckless intention in her attitude, he stepped 
quickly to the table and getting possession of her 
hands, drew her gently to the edge whence she 
sprang lightly to the floor. After a word to the 
others, she accompanied him into the hall. 

u Oh, Davie ! ” she cried tremulously, “ you 
cannot know how glad I am to see you ! ” 

“And I you, little girl,” was all he would trust 
himself to say. 

“ I have worked hard,” she continued, w I have 
taken first honors, yet it seemed nobody cared. 
I am the only girl in the class that hasn’t a father 
or mother here, to say nothing of brothers, sisters 
and cousins. Oh, you don’t know how hard it 
was to see them so happy, and be so lonely 
myself! I was upon that table making a monkey 


192 


MINE INHERITANCE 


of myself to entertain the girls, trying to forget 
how miserable I felt. I knew if I went to my 
room, I would bury my head in my pillow and 
fairly cry my eyes out.” 

As she stood there pouring her heartache into 
his ears, he could hardly resist putting his arms 
about her, but he dared not, though he did get pos- 
session of one small hand and pat it sympathet- 
ically. “ Never mind, I did not know you cared 
so much, or I would have written you I was com- 
ing,” he said. 

“Oh, it’s all right,” she declared gaily as she 
brushed away the tears she had not been able to 
keep back. “ Come, meet Dr. Hill ; and then, if 
he will let us, we will take a little walk on the 
campus in the moonlight, and you can tell me all 
about everybody at home.” 

That moonlight stroll came near to being David’s 
undoing. More than once the expressions of love 
for this innocent young creature rose to his lips, 
and each time the struggle to crush them back 
grew harder. 

After two or three turns up and down the walk 
she turned upon him impatiently, and demanded, 
“ Davie, what on earth is the matter with you to- 
night ? You haven’t made a sensible answer to a 


COMMENCEMENT 


193 

thing I have asked you. Now I want to know 
what you are thinking about.” 

He laughed an embarrassed laugh and stam- 
mered, “ Me ? I was a — a — thinking about a — 
my chief ambition.” 

She burst into a merry laugh, then said saucily, 

tc Now, I do think that is quite complimentary 
to my conversation ! ” 

“ Oh, but you don’t understand,” he blundered 
on. “You ” 

“ Mona,” called a voice from a window near them, 
“ it’s time to practice that duet for to-morrow.” 

“ Oh, dear, now I have to go ! ” she said petu- 
lantly. “ I can’t see you any more until morning.” 

He bade her good-night at the door and hastily 
strode away to fight out his battle once more. 

Once more duty conquered desire. “ I am not 
able to support Mona as she has been used to liv- 
ing, even if I owed nothing to mamma and the 
girls. Mamma has the first claim on me, because 
she has made me all that I am, that too when she 
was under no obligation to me. I have no right to 
ask a girl to wait indefinitely for me. Oh, God,” 
he groaned, “ give me patience to wait until I am 
free to speak.” 

When Mona went to her room, a dozen of her 


194 


MINE INHERITANCE 


mischievous mates awaited her. As she entered, a 
gay young voice called, w Where did you find 
him ? ” 

“ Did you say his name was Dignity ? ” de- 
manded another. 

“ Why don’t you make him quit being so stiff? ” 
questioned a third. 

Instantly Mona drew herself up to her full 
height, threw her head back and said in a voice 
whose first tone brought silence, “ You may make 
fun of anybody else, but not Davie. He has been 
my friend all my life, he taught me to walk, his 
was the first name I learned. I never had a 
trouble in my life that he did not stand by me, 
and whoever whispers a word against him is not 
my friend.” 

One by one the girls retired in surprised silence. 
They had never seen Mona so angry before. 

That commencement week was a delightful one 
to David. He met older men of the kind he had 
long wanted to know. He not only met them, but 
heard their conversations, joining in at times when 
they touched upon the things most interesting him. 
He attracted no little attention by his well-bred in- 
telligence and his evident enjoyment of the sur- 
roundings. 


COMMENCEMENT 


i95 


Mona, seeing his pleasure, managed in one way 
and another to bring him in contact with the people 
he wished to know, and rejoiced to see them ap- 
preciate him. He was a little stiff and formal in 
his manner, but to those who could read the indi- 
cations, he showed himself a man of promise. 

David carefully avoided any more moonlight 
strolls with Mona, a thing easy to do, as they were 
not favorably looked upon by those in authority. 
When they took the journey home together, he 
left her at her own door, still without having ut- 
tered a word of the love he bore her. 

Mrs. Strong was equally surprised and relieved 
as time passed, and she saw there was no change 
in Mona’s and David’s relations. She was a rea- 
sonable woman, and she realized that he had a right 
to marry. While she did not wish to be selfish, 
• she very much hoped that David would stand by 
her until they together had prepared the twins to 
take care of themselves. Still, if David had told 
her he was going to marry, she would have tried 
not to throw any obstacles in his way. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A SURPRISE 

M ONA had not been long at home, when 
her father announced very calmly at 
breakfast one morning, that he was going 
away that forenoon to be married. He expected 
to return with his bride a week later. Beyond in- 
forming Mona that she had not met the lady of 
his choice, he left her to learn everything concern- 
ing her stepmother for herself. 

He requested her, in a rather commanding tone, 
to put the house in order for their arrival. He 
went on very graciously to say that Mona might 
keep her mother’s room as it joined her own, and 
as the latter was quite small. He and his new 
wife would occupy the rooms across the hall. 
These he wished especially prepared for the new- 
comer. 

Mona quietly acquiesced, being too much aston- 
ished to do otherwise, even had she so wished, 
until long after he was gone. Finally she rushed 
off to the kitchen to talk it over with mammy, who 
shook her head grimly and muttered dark forebod- 
196 


A SURPRISE 


l 97 


ings for the future. After they had thoroughly 
discussed the matter, they went to work with a 
will, both determined that the mistress should find 
no fault with their housekeeping. 

Mona was too indifferent to her father to be 
angry about this marriage. Had she loved him, as 
she longed to do, she would have been furious at 
the introduction of a third member into their 
family. As it was, she felt just a trifle ashamed of 
it, along with a mild interest at this break in the 
monotony. Surely it would not be much drearier 
than it was at present. 

The new wife might prove a pleasant companion 
for herself. She felt that she ought to be indig- 
nant on her dead mother’s account, but she was 
too sensible not to see that this would be ridicu- 
lous. She knew her father had never cared any 
more for her mother than he did now, and prob- 
ably cared as little for the future Mrs. McArthur. 
So she wound up by being sorry for the latter, and 
with the intention of being as pleasant to her as that 
unknown lady would permit. 

That was one of the busiest weeks Mona had 
ever spent, and it was with a sigh of relief that 
she at last met them at the door. She was not 
a little surprised at her father’s choice. She had 


198 


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expected a young woman, perhaps almost as young 
as herself, who would probably go out with her 
and make their home gayer by entertaining the 
young people and having Mona join her in these 
pleasantries. Possibly she might have the tact to 
come between Mona and her father, producing a 
more harmonious relation. 

Mona was just home from school and, missing 
her schoolmates sadly, she managed before the 
week was out to gather quite a rose-colored dream 
about the expected stepmother. She did not real- 
ize how much she had hoped, until she met the op- 
posite of her desires at the door. She confronted 
a tall, angular, sallow woman, rather distinguished 
looking in spite of her undeniable homeliness. She 
had a peculiar way of drawing one corner of her 
mouth in, as if trying to bring out a dimple, and 
she arched her neck and tossed her head in a way 
that might be amusing or disgusting, the feeling 
produced being dependent upon how often one 
might see her do it. Above all she was cold look- 
ing, if possible colder in her manner than Mr. Mc- 
Arthur himself. 

Mona wondered., as she welcomed them, and 
showed her stepmother to her room, what there 
could have been to draw these two together. 


A SURPRISE 


*99 


Later she discovered it was because each thought 
the other wealthy ; but just now she had to give up 
the problem. She noted the older woman’s crit- 
ical survey of the house as she passed through it, 
but learning nothing from the inscrutable face, she 
promptly dubbed her, in her own mind, the Sphinx. 

The next morning at the breakfast table, Mrs. 
McArthur very complacently remarked, “ I shall 
be quite busy for the next few days putting things 
to rights. Of course the house had gotten sadly 
out of order, having no mistress for so long. A 
young girl cannot be expected to take the interest 
in such things or keep house, as a woman would.” 

Mona, who had managed on some excuse to 
turn her back a moment upon the speaker, glanced 
at mammy with a derisive grin, as the latter snorted 
and backed into the kitchen. Turning about, 
Mona said quite serenely, “ Mammy and I thought 
we had things in apple-pie order,” while Mr. Mc- 
Arthur bit his lip and frowned with vexation. The 
elder woman gave Mona what she intended for an 
indulgent smile and said, M Oh, well, you could 
not be expected to have the experience that I have 
had , but I shall take pleasure in teaching you.” 
Whereupon she arched her scrawny neck and 
looked with greater favor at her stepdaughter, for 


200 


MINE INHERITANCE 


the latter’s submissive manner charmed her. Her 
airs almost convulsed Mona, but she managed to 
keep a sober face. 

After breakfast they made the round of inspec- 
tion together. Dirt and dust she could not find, 
though she did look faithfully, but Mrs. McArthur 
promptly condemned the open airy house and easy 
comfortable arrangement of furniture, as wholly 
lacking in dignity. The windows were closed, the 
furniture stiffly backed against the walls, and the 
shades drawn so closely that one coming in from 
the sunshine would need a light to keep from fall- 
ing over the furniture. This completed, the new 
mistress expressed her complete satisfaction, and 
Mona fled to her own apartments for fresh air and 
to relieve her feelings. She flung herself into a 
chair, with a groan that was half laugh and half 
sob, then said to herself, u Dear, dear, what a de- 
lightful tomb we are going to live in ! ” 

She went quietly about her work for the next 
few days, but it seemed that hers and her stepmoth- 
er’s tastes were destined to differ at every turn. 
The latter — taking this difference for ignorance on 
Mona’s part, for of course all intelligent people 
agreed with Mrs. McArthur — went into elaborate 
explanations as to how everything should be done, 


A SURPRISE 


201 


until Mona, determined to keep peace, quietly con- 
fined her housekeeping to her own rooms. These 
rooms were soon made very attractive with some 
of the handsome old furniture her mother had 
brought from her girlhood home, and which the 
present Mrs. McArthur banished for that of more 
modern make. 

When that lady’s new piano came, Mona moved 
hers up to the little sitting-room she had made of 
her mother’s room, and her comfort was complete. 

The next time David came over, he whistled 
softly. 44 Something new, isn’t it ? ” he suggested, 
nodding at the close solemn dark rooms all about 
him. 

“Sh,” whispered Mona; “ come up to my sit- 
ting-room.” 

He accompanied her and they had a jolly half- 
hour; then Mrs. McArthur came in on some tri- 
fling pretext and eyed them with evident dis- 
favor. 

Mona expected a lecture, and was not disap- 
pointed. When David left, Mrs. McArthur came 
in with her sewing, and inquired into David’s his- 
tory, as she made herself comfortable for a long talk. 
She only nodded indefinitely and gave vent to a 
long-drawn out “yes,” ending in a rising inflection, 


202 


MINE INHERITANCE 


which Mona had noticed she always used when not 
wishing to express herself ; after Mona explained 
that David was such an intimate friend of so long 
standing. When Mona was quite through, she re- 
ceived quite a lengthy lecture upon the impropriety 
of young ladies inviting gentlemen into their pri- 
vate sitting-rooms. 

“ Oh, but he is like my own brother,” declared 
Mona decidedly, and there the matter rested. 

Some months passed before there was an open 
rupture between these two widely different women, 
and that, as might have been expected, was over 
mammy. 

Now it was quite natural for mammy to look 
upon Mona as the rightful mistress of the house, 
and the new mistress as an intruder, yet, though 
natural, it was not a wise policy, for the new mis- 
tress was a woman who did not forget indignities, 
and only bore mammy’s opposition with apparent 
patience until she felt secure in an effort to dis- 
charge her. She began by remarking occasionally, 
when alone with her husband, on mammy’s incom- 
petence, her wastefulness, and the fact that she 
would some day become helpless on their hands. 
Mr. McArthur paid little heed to these remarks at 
first, but gradually came to acquiesce in his wife’s 


A SURPRISE 


203 


view and finally, as she had intended, suggested 
that they would have to get rid of mammy and 
procure a younger servant. 

Mona knew nothing of all this. She was really 
fonder of mammy than of her father, if she would 
have admitted it, and Mrs. McArthur fully enjoyed 
the fact that she was striking a blow at Mona as 
well as mammy. 

A few days after Mr. McArthur’s suggestion, 
mammy rebelled against the authority of the new 
mistress for the last time. That lady arched her 
neck and dismissed the old negress with a great dis- 
play of injured dignity. The poor old ashen face 
was pitiful to see. She had never worked for any 
one else, and her love for Mona was almost equal 
to that for her own child. Of course, she fled to 
Mona for protection, and the latter came down the 
stairs like a whirlwind and was upon her step- 
mother before that discreet woman could realize 
what had happened. She listened to the girl’s in- 
dignant outburst with calm triumph, until she was 
quite through, then after coldly stating the facts, 
as she saw them, turned and left the room. 

An hour later, with a grim smile on her face, 
she watched Mona drive off with mammy. The 
indignant girl took her faithful old servant to the 


204 


MINE INHERITANCE 


house of an old friend, who was only too glad to 
procure the latter’s service. The rest of the day 
Mona spent in helping mammy to move, and in 
making her comfortable in her new quarters. That 
night she sat down in her own room, more lonely 
than she had ever been before. 

After this encounter little passed between the two 
women. Mona went out more, took less interest 
in the home, and saw less and less of her stepmother, 
until one day she overheard some one say to the latter, 
“ You and Mona must be so much company to each 
other.” At which Mrs. McArthur laughed her 
frozen little company laugh (she seldom laughed 
except for company) and answered, u Mona is very 
peculiar. Do you know, I scarcely ever see her 
except at meals. I have tried to be a mother to 
her, but really I suppose she has been alone so much 
that she prefers it. So I never intrude upon her.” 

At hearing this, Mona’s face darkened with 
anger, but presently the ludicrous side of the 
problem struck her, as it usually did, and she 
speedily arrived at this charitable conclusion, 

w I guess she is a good enough woman, in her 
way, but we just simply don’t agree in our opinion 
of anything.” Which theory she confided to David 
the next time they had one of their chats. 


A SURPRISE 


205 


He sympathized with her more than he would 
admit, for he thought best to make light of their 
differences as much as possible. How inexpressibly 
he longed to carry her away from these unpleasant 
surroundings to a little home of his own, no one 
but himself knew. He did not go to see her as 
often as he had been in the habit of doing. He 
felt that Mrs. McArthur did not approve of his 
visits, besides Mona had become quite a society 
girl now and was away from home a great deal. 
She seemed gay and cheerful in spite of the 
unpleasant conditions in her home, and David, 
believing that she enjoyed going out so much 
more than their old quiet evenings at home, left 
her to her own way, while he filled his leisure with 
the society of Frank Trueheart and their church 
work. It made him sad to think how far his and 
Mona’s aims were apart, but he put this from him 
as much as possible, hoping and praying for the 
day when she should come to the great change of 
heart that meant a change of life. 

He had no way of knowing that she often 
longed for him to come, on the occasional lonely 
evenings that she spent at home ; that she often 
wearied of parties and wanted him to come as in 
the old childhood days, but the time was long past 


2o6 


MINE INHERITANCE 


when she could call him at pleasure. She did not 
dream that she was continually in his thoughts, 
though her loyalty kept her from accusing him of 
forgetting her. 

They still held to their Sunday afternoon chats, 
however, and one subject of great interest to 
both was the courtship of Frank Trueheart and 
Bess. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


CHANGES 

I T was the beginning of autumn when the 
young minister gained the coveted promise 
of Bess to become his wife. After he was 
gone she went and knelt at Mrs. Strong’s feet, and 
with her blushing face buried in the latter’s lap, 
she told them all of her happiness. David 
promptly congratulated her and praised her lover 
until she forgot her timidity in her delight at 
having him liked. Mrs. Strong caressed her 
silently, but one look into the older woman’s face 
told Bess that her mind had gone back to her own 
young days. Maud was the last to speak or show 
her pleasure in her sister’s happiness, but she 
wound up by saying, “ I can’t help feeling a little 
jealous, honey, at having him come between us.” 

“ Oh, don’t feel that way. I want you to love 
him, too. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could both 
marry him,” said Bess hugging her sister. 

“ No, I don’t believe I want to,” replied Maud 
after the general laugh had subsided. 

u I don’t see how you can help it,” answered 
207 


20 8 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Bess, then blushed again, and hid her face on her 
sister’s shoulder. By and by she told them that 
she and Frank wished to marry in the spring, 
timidly adding, u Of course, if mamma is willing.” 

Preparations were at once begun for the wed- 
ding and went steadily forward through the Christ- 
mas holidays. 

One rainy evening in January, David came 
home about dark and went around to the kitchen 
to dry his damp clothing. He knew from the 
column of smoke issuing from the kitchen chim- 
ney that the dear mother was thinking of her boy 
and cooking him a good hot supper after his day’s 
work. Sure enough, there she was, plump, neat 
and smiling him a genial welcome from the midst 
of sundry savory odors that were very inviting to 
a tired hungry toiler. As he stood talking by the 
fire, taking in the comfort and giving out content 
in every possible way, his face suddenly changed 
and he exclaimed, u Why, mamma, I have a 
letter for you from California. Who can be the 
writer ? ” As he talked he anxiously rummaged 
in his pockets, presently handing it over with evi- 
dent curiosity. 

“ I don’t know, I am sure,” she answered, 
anxiously, adjusting her glasses, u unless it is from 


CHANGES 


209 

my sister. She moved to California some years 
ago, and I have never heard from her since. ,, 

She took the letter, examined the envelope care- 
fully, guessed about it, in short prolonged the de- 
lightful mystery until David, standing on one foot 
in a vain attempt to dry the other, suggested, with 
twinkling eyes, that she might find out what she 
wished to know by opening it. But the twinkle 
died out of the dark eyes and they became as grave 
as the rest of his face, when she read him the let- 
ter. It was from her sister, sure enough. The 
latter had become a confirmed invalid, and wrote 
begging Mrs. Strong to make her home with her. 
She wanted her to come as soon as convenient. 
There was no haste. Her malady was not dan- 
gerous, yet she would probably never be well 
again, and craved the companionship of her only 
sister. No expense would be spared to make this 
sister comfortable, for she and her husband were 
well-to-do and childless. 

After the letter was finished, David was silent, 
but watched Mrs. Strong anxiously all the evening. 
She gave him a reply to mail for her the next day, 
and her reassuring smile made him easier. 

A few evenings later, David sat alone with Mrs. 
Strong, reading aloud to her as she sewed. Pres- 


210 


MINE INHERITANCE 


ently he laid aside his book and sard, w Mamma, I 
want Bess to have nice things for her wedding. She 
has always been a good little sister to me, always 
willing to deny herself to help along, and I want 
her always to feel that she had everything she 
wanted when she married. ,, 

44 But, Davie, I can’t let her take what little you 
have laid up for that,” remonstrated Mrs. Strong 
anxiously, for the means to purchase the remainder 
of the modest trousseau were troubling her no 
little. 

44 1 won’t have to take that,” he answered 
promptly. 44 We are rushed with work just now, 
and they made me a good offer yesterday to help 
for awhile at night. I was glad to do it, for it 
would give me more to spend in this way.” 

Mrs. Strong protested against this, fearing such 
close continued work would affect his health. But 
David urged it, saying that he had already prom- 
ised his services, and it would be a great disap- 
pointment to him not to use it as he had planned. 
So Mrs. Strong gave in, with some misgivings as 
to the wisdom of such a course. He would not 
let her tell Bess that, after working all day for the 
family, he was working half the night for her. 

44 She is so conscientious that she would not be 


CHANGES 


21 1 


happy if she knew it ; don’t spoil her happiness,” 
he urged. 

So the dear girl wondered, as she worked and 
sang from morning until night, why David 
worked so late, but she enjoyed her pretty things 
without connecting the two at all. When she 
feebly protested against such an abundance, as she 
sometimes did, for it seemed lavish to her, Mrs. 
Strong always replied, “ David wants you to have 
it, dear,” and rejoiced to see her daughter so happy, 
though she anxiously noticed that David was be- 
ginning to look care-worn and thin. 

Mona was much consulted in these days, and 
gave valuable help with the dainty things, dear to 
every feminine heart, slyly contributing a pretty 
ribbon or bit of lace, now and then, under the plea 
that it matched so well, or that she had bought the 
last there was in town, and did not really need 
it. She did not see fit to add that she had bought 
it for this very purpose. 

Bess looked up to Mona and admired her very 
much, to Maud’s disgust. The latter resented 
David’s devotion to Mona, and persuaded herself 
it was not appreciated, and thought his admiration 
quite enough to waste, without adding hers and 
Bess’s. 


212 


MINE INHERITANCE 


By and by there came another letter from Cali- 
fornia. David put it in his pocket with dread (at 
the post-office) and could hardly bring himself to 
deliver it to its proper owner when he reached 
home. Sure enough it caused great excitement. 
After a stormy family counsel in which Bess cried, 
Maud could not tell what she wanted, and David 
walked the floor protesting vigorously, Mrs. 
Strong decided to accept her sister’s offer, which 
was a position in her husband’s office for Maud, 
and a home for both Maud and Mrs. Strong with 
them, where Mrs. Strong would practically be the 
mistress of her invalid sister’s house. 

After the girls had retired, David came home 
from work and again pleaded with her to change 
her decision. 

w My son,” she finally said, u Bess will soon 
be married and will not greatly need me ; this is an 
opportunity for Maud that she cannot afford to 
lose ; my sister needs me more than either of you. 
As to you, I think you have supported this family 
long enough, and should be left free to do some- 
thing for yourself.” 

w I haven’t complained, have I ? ” he questioned 
a trifle savagely. 

w No, dear, nor do I think you would ; but you 


CHANGES 


213 


have a right to your ambitions, and by and by to a 
wife and home of your own. I don’t want you 
to give all of your young life to me,” she an- 
swered. 

u You gave yours to us,” he persisted. 

u Yes, but not until I had had my married hap- 
piness to carry as a pleasant memory through my 
life. You are young, David. You will want to 
marry before many years. I would not come be- 
tween you and your happiness for anything.” 

Here it rested ; no amount of persuasion could 
move her. The wedding preparations were has- 
tened a little ; the little old home was sold, to be 
vacated after the wedding. The modest sum it 
brought was divided among them. Mrs. Strong 
gave Bess her portion to help furnish the new par- 
sonage, which the church was building, put aside 
her own and Maud’s share for the journey to Cali- 
fornia, and gave David his to take a vacation trip 
upon, insisting that he needed it very much, he 
was getting so worn and thin. He did not want 
to accept it, but Mrs. Strong became so offended, 
that he made haste to appease her indignation, and 
meekly took all she offered. 

The wedding was at the church, for Frank 
Trueheart wanted his entire flock to have a share 


214 


MINE INHERITANCE 


in his great happiness. After the wedding, the fam- 
ily adjourned to the new parsonage, where some of 
the good women of the church had spread a veri- 
table feast, which Bess laughingly declared was 
sufficient for them to live on through their entire 
honeymoon. Bess had begged Mona to come, but 
the latter, knowing that it was strictly a family af- 
fair, had discreetly pleaded a previous engagement, 
feeling that they would prefer being alone just be- 
fore their nearing separation. 

The supper over, David, who had moved to his 
new lodgings only that afternoon, escorted Mrs. 
Strong and Maud to the train, making them prom- 
ise over and over again that if at any time they 
needed him or his assistance they would let him 
know. Then the train came roaring in and bore 
them away from him. The parting had been sad 
for them all, but Mrs. Strong and Maud were go- 
ing to new scenes and still had each other to cling 
to, while Bess had her devoted young husband to 
comfort her and make her happy. David felt very 
much alone as the train vanished from his sight, 
and he wandered disconsolately back to the little 
old home, dark, bare and desolate. From there his 
thoughts turned to Mona for comfort, as Mrs. 
Strong well knew they would. Suddenly there 


CHANGES 


215 


came a decision to propose to her that night. 
Surely he needed her, possibly she needed him. 
Yes, he was free to go to her and tell her his secret 
at last. 


CHAPTER XXV 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 

D AVID was met at the door by Mrs. Mc- 
Arthur, who icily told him that Mona 
had gone to a party at Mrs. Page’s and 
would not be back until late. 

He smiled grimly to himself, as he tramped 
across to the Pages’, over the evident disapproval 
Mrs. McArthur had of him. He could afford to 
smile, for he knew that her opinion would not af- 
fect Mona’s, except to make her like him better. 
David was quite thin from overwork and anxiety. 
He looked a trifle stern on account of the loneliness 
tugging at his heart, but his face was flushed with 
suppressed excitement, while in his eyes there 
glowed a purpose. 

This was the hour for which he had so long 
waited, and now he longed to tell Mona his chief 
ambition. He wanted her to comfort him and 
drive away his loneliness. He pictured in his mind, 
as he strode along, how he would take her away 
from the party. 

He reveled in the joy of the long walk home, 
216 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 


2I 7 

and how he would pour into her ears his love and 
longing for her to share his whole life. 

He found her standing with a half-dozen, young 
men around her, gaily entertaining them all with 
her bright repartee and contagious smiles. He 
went boldly up to her and asked to see her a few 
moments alone. She took his arm and with a 
laughing excuse to the rest, suffered him to lead 
her away. 

Giving him a quick glance, as they crossed the 
room, she thought she had never seen him so hand- 
some. His face was flushed, his eyes bright, and 
he was so erect and masterful. But why did he 
wear that odious cape jasmine in his buttonhole ? 
Its rich fragrance sickened her and brought a rush 
of painful memories. 

He led her to a vine-covered nook on the ve- 
randa, and after seating her he settled himself be- 
side her. She waited a moment for him to speak, 
then asked, expectantly, “ What is it ? ” 

w Why, I wanted to talk to you. I haven’t had 
a chance for some time, you know,” he declared 
contentedly smiling into the sweet puzzled face 
beside him, as he admired it in the soft light com- 
ing through the window of a deserted adjoining 


room. 


218 


MINE INHERITANCE 


u Well, if I ever heard anything to equal that ! ” 
she ejaculated laughing, “ but I want to talk to you 
too,” she presently continued, “ and I have some- 
thing sure enough to tell you, though I was begin- 
ning to fear you had lost interest in me.” 

“ Why, Mona ! ” his face was close to hers now, 
and his voice was tenderly reproachful. 

M Oh, I was joking about that, but I do want to 
tell you,” she replied without looking into the 
face that, had she seen it, would have told its own 
story. 

M All right, let’s hear about it,” he answered, feel- 
ing so contented that he did not care how long 
this state of affairs lasted. 

u Davie,” she spoke in a low even tone, u I 
have decided to get married.” 

She spoke as indifferently as if she had said, u I 
am going shopping to-morrow.” It made him 
turn cold with dread. Mona was no longer a 
whimsical romantic schoolgirl, she was a woman 
now, and, as she went on in her even deliberate 
tones, he was filled with a sick sense of hope- 
lessness. 

w Who is the lucky man ? ” he inquired with 
dry lips. 

“It’s papa’s partner, Mr. Flint. I don’t care 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 219 

much about him, but then I don’t dislike him, and 
I guess he will do as well as any. I don’t think I 
could ever really love any man, and things couldn’t 
be more unpleasant for me than they are now. 
He asked me two weeks ago, and papa called me 
into the parlor the next day to tell me he hoped 
I’d marry him, that he was a good business man 
and it would be nice to keep the business all in the 
family, and — my patience, Davie, why don’t you 
say something ? ” demanded Mona, who could not 
endure his silence an instant longer. 

“ Very well,” he answered furiously, u I’ll say 
this. You shan’t marry him ! Of all the cold- 
blooded business transactions, this is the coldest. 
I didn’t think you would stoop to such a marriage. 
I would rather see you in your coffin than see 
you go into such a miserable business.” 

She stood up, aghast at his fury, then sweep- 
ing him a low bow said in a clear tone, M Mr. 
Strong, I shall marry whom I please, without 
your let or hindrance.” 

She was sweeping by him with high head and 
flashing eyes, when he caught her wrist in his 
hot hand and held it like a vice. 

“ Good-bye, Mona,” he said with parched lips, 
“ I am going away soon. I know you will be 


120 


MINE INHERITANCE 


unhappy and I will be powerless to help it. I 
fear, if I saw it, I should want to kill the man 
who made you so.” He paused a moment, then 
his voice softened and broke, “ Little girl, I have 
loved you every day of your life. For years I 
have worked and waited for you. As soon as I 
was free to speak, I came straight to ask you to 
be my wife.” 

She gazed at him in a dazed, bewildered way, 
and he caught her face fiercely between his hands. 
M If you won’t be my wife, I will tell you good- 
bye, cost what it may,” he whispered and pressing 
his hot lips to her forehead, for an instant, he 
gently released her, and before she could find her 
voice he had vanished into the night. She sprang 
to the edge of the veranda to recall him, but the 
man whom she had declared she would marry 
stepped in front of her and asked angrily, w Pray, 
what does all this mean ? ” 

“ Nothing,” she answered sullenly. 

w I wasn’t aware that you and Mr. Strong were 
so fond of each other, until I happened upon this 
little scene,” he snarled. 

She tilted her chin a trifle higher but made 
no answer. 

He waited a moment for her to speak, then as 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 


221 


she remained silent, he continued : u I must insist 
that, as my promised wife, your future conduct 
shall be more dignified, to say the least. As to 
young Strong, I prefer that you have nothing more to 
do with him. I do not consider him our equal, in 
the first place, and, in the second, he seems inclined 
to too great familiarity.” 

He was evidently through now and waiting for 
her reply, so she answered promptly, u I retain the 
right to select my own friends, and I tell you dis- 
tinctly, David Strong has been like a brother to me, 
and I wouldn’t give up his friendship for you nor 
any other man I ever knew.” 

u His parting just now was exceedingly brotherly, 
I confess, and I must insist that you choose be- 
tween us, Miss McArthur,” he retorted. 

“Very well, Mr. Flint, that is just with you,” 
she replied haughtily, and slipping his ring from 
her finger she dropped it into his extended hand 
and was gone before he could argue further. 

“ She will make up all right when she cools off. 
I didn’t know she was so hot-headed. But I won’t 
have him hanging around her, that’s certain,” he 
reflected, savagely. 

Back in the parlor, she was the gayest of the 
gay, until passing Harry Saunders, she whispered, 


222 


MINE INHERITANCE 


u Harry, please take me home. I have the 
blues.” 

“ Of course,” agreed good-natured Harry with 
alacrity. “ What’s the matter, you and Dave had 
a fuss ? ” he questioned curiously. 

“ Please don’t ask me,” she begged so piteously 
that he promptly agreed and began talking about 
something else. When she was at last alone in 
her own room, she flung herself across the bed 
sobbing, w Oh, Davie, if you had only told me, I 
would have waited until you were free, even if it 
had been years. Oh, dear, if I had only known ! ” 

By and by she grew calmer, and comforted her- 
self by planning how she would see David in the 
morning and tell him of her quarrel with Mr. 
Flint. She knew that would be sufficient. Davie 
could take care of the rest, and her face burned 
in the darkness as she pressed her hand upon her 
forehead, where his lips had touched. How she 
would have resented such a liberty in Mr. Flint ! 
Yet it seemed Davie’s right. How could she have 
been so blind to all his faithfulness through her 
whole life ? And yet, that was just it; his unvary- 
ing devotion was what had kept her in ignorance. 
She could think of numberless evidences of his 
intentions, now that her eyes were opened. She 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 


223 


wondered at the joy that filled her at thought 
of his love. She suddenly found her restlessness 
gone. She felt so secure and safe. Her life had 
a purpose at last. This was all so different from 
her feeling for Mr. Flint, whom she could not 
bear to come too close to her, or for poor Ralph 
Martin, who had only awakened a childish, pitying 
love. 

Next she reproached herself for having made 
David even more unhappy on this sad night of 
parting from his family. She longed for morning 
to come that she might make it right with him. 
They would be happy too, happier than she had 
ever dreamed she could be. They would be mar- 
ried as she had seen happy little Bess married 
to-night, and have a dear little home of their own. 
She was glad Davie was poor. He should have all 
she had, and then she would help him all she could 
besides. As she lay there busy with these thoughts, 
she heard the midnight train come in. Presently a 
pistol shot rang out on the still night air, the new 
town clock struck twelve, then the train went out, 
puffing and blowing as though overflowing with its 
own importance. She discovered that she must 
have come home from the party earlier than usual. 
Gradually the town quieted to rest; everything 


224 


MINE INHERITANCE 


grew quiet but a rat thumping about in the attic 
overhead and the ticking of the little clock on her 
mantel. By the time the rat grew quiet she too 
was sound asleep, with a smile of hope for the 
morrow parting her innocent lips. 

She did not wake until the sun was shining full 
in her face, and she sprang up with a start. There 
seemed to be something unusual going on down- 
stairs, for the sound of hurrying feet, opening and 
shutting of doors, and the rustle of her stepmother’s 
dress on the stairs outside her door, all indicated 
some excitement. She dressed hurriedly and went 
down to find out the cause. At a glance she saw 
that her father was unusually agitated; her step- 
mother eyed her curiously, as she stood in the 
doorway, but said nothing. 

Her father glanced up from his seat at the 
breakfast-table, with evident vexation and re- 
marked, “ Sam Flint was shot last night.” 

It always angered Mr. McArthur for anything to 
interfere with his plans. Although Flint had been 
his faithful employee for years before he became his 
partner, yet it was evident that the derangement of 
his own affairs was troubling him more than his 
junior partner’s sufferings. 

At her father’s remark, Mona dropped suddenly 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 


225 


into her seat. She knew that she had turned pale 
from the chilly, tingling sensation that swept over 
her, and from that cold, fixed scrutiny of Mrs. 
McArthur. 

u Who shot him ? When was he shot ? Was 
it fatal ? ” she gasped all in a breath. 

44 It is not known who shot him ; it occurred 
about midnight, and the wound is not considered 
serious,” was her father’s deliberate response as he 
gave her a keen glance and thought, “ She is evi- 
dently very much interested in Flint.” 

44 He sent me a note a half-hour ago, and asks 
that you will come to see him this morning,” con- 
tinued Mr. McArthur. 

Though Mona’s eyes were fixed upon her plate, 
she knew that both of them were watching her, 
until feeling that she could bear it no longer, she 
rose hastily saying, u Please excuse me. I do not 
care for any breakfast,” and started to leave the room. 

“ You had better change your dress and go with 
me to see Flint,” her father suggested. “ I shall 
go by on my way to the office.” 

w I — I — oh, it is too early for me to go yet,” she 
faltered. 

“ I can go down with her later,” suggested Mrs. 
McArthur in a tone of elation that made Mona 


226 


MINE INHERITANCE 


shudder, in spite of herself, as she thought of taking 
such a spy upon her actions with her anywhere. 

“ I cannot go,” said the girl positively. 

“ What ! And pray why not ? ” her father de- 
manded in a low angry tone, then continued : 
M Are you not engaged ? ” 

u No, sir,” she answered firmly, bracing herself 
for what must follow. 

u What does this mean ? ” he questioned. 

“ It means that I do not care enough for Mr. 
Flint to marry him,” she answered, looking fear- 
lessly into her father’s eyes, “ and that we decided 
last night to break our engagement.” 

“You mean that you quarreled, and you let that 
hot temper of yours run away with your sense. 
There is no earthly reason for this foolishness. 
Flint is one of the most promising young men in 
this place, and most girls would jump at the chance 
of marrying him,” declared her father, losing his 
temper more and more over this evident frustration 
of his plans. 

w There is no reason, except that I do not care 
enough for him to wish to spend my life with him,” 
answered the girl listlessly, knowing that this sen- 
timent would meet with small favor in her father’s 
eyes. 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 


227 

u Nonsense ! ” snorted he. u You can live with 
anybody if you will behave yourself. This mar- 
riage would be to your advantage as well as mine 
and Flint’s. I wish you to go to see him. He 
evidently wishes to make up.” 

“ But I do not wish to. It is not necessary for 
me to marry if I do not desire it. I am of age, have 
a home and a living from my mother, and shall not 
marry unless I find some one I really care for,” she 
answered haughtily, determined to let her father 
know her decision was made. She saw him turn 
white with rage, and hastily left the room before 
anything more unpleasant could be said, for after 
all, this was her father, and together they shared 
this home. 

As she hurried to her room there came a dreadful 
thought into her mind which made her turn faint 
with dread. She tried to drive it away, but it in- 
truded only the more. Over and over there raced 
through her brain the words, “ I know you will be 
unhappy. I fear if I saw it I should want to kill 
the man who made you so.” 

She experienced a sense of relief at the thought 
that she was not under the gaze of her lynx-eyed 
stepmother, when this fear occurred to her. 

She rushed into her own room and closed the door 


228 


MINE INHERITANCE 


upon her misery. Burying her face in her hands, 
she sobbed to herself, “ Oh, Davie, what made you 
say that to me ? I know you didn’t do it, but I 
can’t keep those words out of my mind.” 

Presently she bathed her face to obliterate the 
traces of her tears, put her rooms in order and care- 
fully dressed herself for the street. She had heard 
the front door close after her father some time ago, 
and now she went quietly out. Had she looked 
back when she reached the gate, she might have 
seen Mrs. McArthur cautiously watching her 
through the half-closed blinds of her bedroom win- 
dow. That designing woman was anxious for 
this marriage. She was shrewd enough to know 
that her own management was unpleasant to Mona, 
and she knew that the latter would insist upon a 
home of her own if she married. As for herself, 
she was as anxious to be rid of Mona as Mona was 
of her. But she knew that Mona could not be 
summarily disposed of, as mammy had been. 

u She has given in. It would have been better 
if she had asked me to accompany her, but then she 
is peculiar,” and Mrs. McArthur set her thin 
bloodless lips together in a way that was not pleas- 
ant to see, but this was not an expression that she 
showed in company. 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 


229 


Mona walked rapidly down the street. She felt 
that she must see David. She had quite forgotten 
the fact that she had also quarreled with him. All 
of her life she had depended upon him for counsel, 
and now, more than ever in her life, she felt that 
she needed him and could go to him unreservedly, 
since she knew of his great love for her. She was 
his and he hers, that was sufficient. So completely 
had she become his, that had he suggested when 
she marched into the office that they go and be 
married at once, she would have promptly agreed. 
In fact, she rather hoped he would do this, and thus 
put an end to the struggle between her and her 
father. 

No one would think strangely of her going to 
the dry-goods store, which opened into the office 
where David worked. Besides, she and David 
were very often together, she had frequently stopped 
by the office to see him a moment, and their friends 
looked upon them almost as brother and sister. 

When she reached the office David was not in. 
After a moment’s hesitation, she walked up to his 
employer’s desk and timidly asked for him. Now 
this good man had his own ideas about these two 
young people, and looked at her with evident sur- 
prise when she asked for David. 


230 


MINE INHERITANCE 


u Did you not know that he went away last 
night for a month’s vacation ? ” he inquired, push- 
ing his glasses back and eyeing her curiously. 

She clutched the desk and drew a long breath 
before she could muster courage to ask, “ Where 
has he gone ? ” 

The man looked blank for a moment before he 
replied, u I did not think to ask him. He came to 
me in a great hurry, after eleven o’clock last night ; 
said he wasn’t well and had decided to go off on 
the midnight train for a month’s rest. He needed 
it too, for he looked all broken down, and no won- 
der. We have just finished up the biggest rush of 
work we ever had. I was glad for him to have a 
vacation. Well, we had several little matters to 
attend to and had no time to talk. I am satisfied 
that I will hear from him in a few days, however. 
When I do, I’ll let you know.” 

She thanked him and went quietly out with a 
heavy heart. The happiness that had so suddenly 
come to her was as suddenly crushed. Just as she 
had discovered some one who could truly share her 
whole life, had found the sweetness of such love 
and companionship, the companionship was gone, 
and she was left hungering for the joy of which 
she had only caught a glimpse. The things that 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 


231 


she had heretofore cared for seemed suddenly to 
have shriveled away, and left her nothing to fill 
the dreary void of her life. David was gone, and 
down in her heart was a foreboding that he did not 
intend to return. He would not have bidden her 
such a startling farewell, had he intended coming 
back at the end of the month. Her one hope was, 
that he would write to his employer resigning his 
position. If the latter gave her his address, she 
could easily write him a letter that would insure 
his coming. Then the cruel suspicion returned 
that had come to her on hearing Mr. Flint was 
shot. She despised herself for thinking of it, and 
yet she could not put it from her mind. 

On her way home, she passed in sight of her 
father, and he promptly congratulated himself that 
she had so easily given in and gone to see Flint. 
He rubbed his hands together softly, a way he had 
when pleased, and went on about the business in 
hand. 

Mona was not the only one to whom the ugly 
suspicion of David came. The succeeding day 
after his departure some one suggested the possi- 
bility of his having shot Flint, because of a quarrel 
with Mona McArthur. By night there were all 
kinds of rumors afloat, while the officers were 


232 


MINE INHERITANCE 


telegraphing up and down the railroads trying 
vainly to learn something of his whereabouts. He 
had bought a ticket to St. Louis ; that was all they 
could learn. Excitement ran high in the town 
over the shooting and its possible outcome. Mona 
found the public interest in herself and her move- 
ments made her unpleasantly conspicuous, and so 
remained closely at home, though this iatter was 
not a pleasant place to stay just now. Mr. 
McArthur learned that she had not been to see 
Flint, and she was treated by him and his wife as 
an utter stranger. 

On the third day after David’s departure, a Mr. 
Ford, who had known David for years, came home 
and put an effectual stop to the search for that 
individual. He had been on the train talking to 
David when they heard the pistol shot. He 
promptly gave his evidence that David had noth- 
ing to do with it. After this the town settled 
down, the officers began a quiet search for a clue, 
and Mona soon found time hanging heavy on her 
hands. 

She was tired of society, it was not necessary for 
her to earn her living, and there was now no em- 
ployment which particularly interested her, since 


HOW DAVID PROPOSED 


2 33 

her stepmother had assumed entire management of 
the house. 

She assiduously practiced her music, read a num- 
ber of books, made numerous unnecessary gar- 
ments, all just to pass the time. But when she 
thought of spending the rest of her life in this 
monotonous fashion, with nothing to look forward 
to, nothing to live for, her heart sank within her. 
Perhaps she would have grown desperate, but down 
in her heart she carefully nursed a feeble hope that 
David would return. So she grew to watching for 
him, from week to week and month to month. 
But at last the hope began to fade in spite of her 
nursing, and life daily grew drearier to the poor 
lonely girl. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


david’s quest 

W HEN David left Mona it seemed to 
him fitting that he should rush out 
into the darkness, for everything was 
correspondingly dark within him. The thing that 
he had kept before him as one of the main objects 
of his life, ever since he could remember, had been 
suddenly snatched from him. All his most cher- 
ished hopes lay in ruins, and just now other 
plans seemed impossible. For once his cool de- 
liberation had deserted him. He felt weary and 
sick. What Mrs. Strong had suggested was quite 
right, he had worked too hard and needed rest. 
He thought of this and also remembered that his 
employer could spare him better now than any 
other time, for the busy season was just over. 
There was upon him a desperate haste to do some- 
thing. He determined to go away for a change. 
This decision reached, he planned to go next 
morning. Then it occurred to him, u Why not 
go to-night ? ” He surely could not be so lonely 


DAVID’S QUEST 235 

among strangers as he felt now, where it seemed 
that everybody who cared for him had gone away 
and left him alone. Somehow there came to him 
the word, w Mother.” He wanted to shout it 
across the years that intervened between him and 
his childhood. Yes, he wanted his mother. He 
wanted to lay his tired head upon her knee and let 
her soothe him to rest. He had always intended 
to seek for his people some day. Why not now ? 
There seemed nothing else left for him to care for. 

u Oh, God,” he prayed desperately, u let me find 
my mother, it doesn’t matter how.” 

He hurried to his employer’s office, quickly made 
the necessary arrangements, rushed to his boarding- 
house, spoke to the landlady, snatched up the va- 
lise that had not been unpacked and flew to catch 
the midnight train. He had given no thought as 
to where he should go. He was going to find his 
mother, that was all he had decided upon. 

At the depot, his eyes fell upon a circular de- 
scribing the particular attractiveness of St. Louis. 
He thought that as good a start as any, and so 
bought a ticket for St. Louis, and flung himself on 
the train, with a sigh of relief. It occurred to 
him, that he could go somewhere else after he had 
finished his search in that city. He met Mr. Ford 


236 MINE INHERITANCE 

and talked with him until the train started, but not 
of his own plans. Presently the latter, catching a 
glimpse of a man he wished to see, in another car, 
excused himself and went away, to David’s great 
relief. He wanted to be alone. He felt confused 
and weary after the night’s excitement, and how 
could he know that this conversation was destined 
to rescue him from the accusation of attempted 
murder ? 

He slept and woke to find it daylight. Things 
looked queer, but he attributed that to the motion 
of the train. He had an intolerable pain in his 
head and he could not hold his hands steady. 
There was only one person sitting near him, a 
young man apparently about his own age, who 
tried to start a conversation with him ; but some- 
how it did not seem to progress well and he went 
away to talk to some one else. The thought 
of food was nauseating to David, but he was de- 
voutly thankful that the water was near him, for 
he felt as if he could never get his throat cool and 
moist again. By and by he decided that every- 
body was staring at him, the noise of the train be- 
came almost unbearable, and he longed to slip away 
where he could be quiet. At length the weary day 
drew to a close and he hoped that at last he was 


DAVID’S QUEST 237 

to be allowed to rest. But the train had only 
stopped for supper, and presently lurched on. Now 
there was added the glare of the lamps, beside 
which the daylight had been pleasant. Adding this 
to the old rattle and roar of the train, which he 
had endured by day, it finally became fixed in his 
poor fever-stricken brain that the whole thing was 
for his especial torture, and the people around him 
were there simply to witness his misery. In the 
middle of the next forenoon 'they reached a stir- 
ring little town on the western bank of the Mis- 
sissippi. He did not know where he was, but sud- 
denly decided that this was his opportunity to es- 
cape while every one else was so busy. He looked 
out of the car window to where a deep quiet shade 
lay and determined to go there and lie down. He 
was sure it must be cool there, and hoped to be 
quiet once more. He went nervously to the rear 
door, and finding the crowd all busy on one side, 
he crept unsteadily down the steps and around a 
corner out of sight of the train, holding with all 
his strength to his valise. 

After he had recovered from his fear of being 
caught, he could not remember the direction of the 
shade and wandered slowly down the street. By 
and by the street seemed much quieter, and then he 


23 8 


MINE INHERITANCE 


was stopped by a sudden exclamation, and looking 
around, beheld an old white-haired negro man 
standing with open mouth, staring at him. 

w Ef you hain’t Marse David, hit shorely is his 
ghos’ ! ” declared the old fellow trembling. As 
David looked him full in the face, he gasped, 
u ’Fore de Lawd, hit’s my missie’s baby done come 
back at las’. Come right in, honey, missie done 
been a waitin’ fer you a mighty long time.” 

David was too sick to think strange of any- 
thing. The shade trees, the rose hedge, the broad 
smooth walks and the big stone house seemed to in- 
vite him to peace and repose. He entered the low 
gate and followed the old negro submissively up to 
the house. 

u Oh, missie ! ” shouted the cracked old voice, 
“ you cain’t guess who’s come.” 

A placid white-haired woman came to the door 
at the faithful old servant’s call, but when she 
looked carefully at the clear-cut fever flushed face, 
she caught her breath and came unsteadily to meet 
him, asking huskily, “ Where did you find him, 
Bill ? How do you know that it is my boy ? ” 
u Jes’ listen to dat. Who said it was her boy ? ” 
chuckled the delighted Bill. But, for once, she had 
forgotten Bill. Gently she led David in, her heart 


239 


DAVID’S QUEST 

fluttering so that she could scarcely breathe. She 
began asking him questions, which he answered, 
rather vaguely perhaps, but bringing hope to her 
hungry heart. Presently his head dropped a little 
and he murmured politely, w I am sorry, but I fear 
I shall have to lie down. You don’t know how 
tired I am.” 

M Please might I look at your arm first ? I know 
it is a strange request, but it means so much to 
me,” she begged in a trembling voice. 

He nodded, and deftly slipping back his sleeve, 
she found the clear-cut five-pointed star, an ugly 
little white scar, but to her most beautiful. Her 
eyes filled as she bent and kissed it. Then slip- 
ping her arms about him she sobbed, u My boy, 
oh, my boy ! I have waited and prayed for this 
hour ! ” 

He did not understand, but his head dropped 
forward and rested at last upon his mother’s knee, 
as he drifted out upon the great sea of uncon- 
sciousness. 

Presently she realized how ill he was, then such 
preparations for his comfort as went forward ! 
With the help of the cook, he was taken up-stairs, 
given a bath and put to rest in a great snowy bed 
which must have been a comfort, though he was 


2^0 


MINE INHERITANCE 


past appreciating it. The family physician was 
called, and the mother settled herself to fight the 
battle against death and nurse her wanderer back 
to health. She sat for hours listening to talk of 
the mill, mamma, Bess, Maud, and the never end- 
ing struggle with the columns of figures. But the 
word most upon his lips was Mona, sometimes in 
gentle patient reproof, but always with tender rev- 
erence, “ Mona, Mona ! ” 

At first she wondered who it could be ; then she 
learned that it was the woman he loved, and it 
made her heart ache to hear the hungry longing of 
his heart poured out in this helpless way. 

The three brothers received the news as one 
might have expected. Richard turned deadly pale 
for an instant ; then a look of great relief spread 
over his face, and he rejoiced with all sincerity that 
the boy had come home. Hugh said nothing; but 
when he learned that his own brother, of whom he 
had so long heard, was in the house, the eagerness 
on his face was pitiful to see. Yet he could never 
see him, the handsome man whom he would be so 
proud to call brother. 

Giddings received the news like the forty-year- 
old child that he was. No sadness clouded his 
brow. He went about the house, softly chuckling 


241 


DAVID’S QUEST 

to himself. When he could contain it no longer, 
he rushed out and told every chance passer-by 
that, w Little Davie has done come home.” When 
first told, he was eager to rush straight up and see 
“the little boy.” Martha Preston could hardly 
restrain him, as she patiently explained to him that 
he might kill Davie if he disturbed him now. At 
the mention of death, the poor simple fellow shud- 
dered, and meekly sat down upon the stair where 
he remained like a faithful watch dog for full ten 
minutes; for to his poor darkened mind nothing 
was so fearful as the word death. He crept rest- 
lessly about the house all afternoon, always coming 
to his stepmother with some question about Davie, 
whenever she had occasion to leave the sick room. 

Weeks passed and the spring was almost gone, 
when the doctor at last pronounced David out of 
danger, and Martha Preston came down pale and 
smiling to tell them the good news* 

Giddings rushed away to proclaim to all who 
would listen, u Say, did you know little Davie was 
a gettin’ well ? ” 

Hugh went into the parlor, and flinging himself 
face down in a quiet corner, prayed out of a full 
heart, while Richard sprang on his horse and 
rode restlessly about the big farm. But the happy 


242 


MINE INHERITANCE 


mother went back patiently to watch and pray for 
the return of health. 

As his strength came back, David told his story 
by littles, or listened to his mother’s’ history of 
waiting for his return. Bill sat by, faithfully serv- 
ing them both, silently biding his time to tell 
David that part of his story that his missie had 
never heard. 

One morning, Richard, who always slept late, 
heard voices in David’s room; which was next to 
his. The open windows of both rooms were side 
by side, and he could hear quite distinctly every 
word that passed between David and Uncle Bill. 
The elder brother lay drowsily listening without at 
first realizing that he did so. Presently he heard 
his own name, coupled with that of his dead 
brother, John. Then before he had time to con- 
sider what he was doing, he heard Bill tell David 
the whole story of the latter’s disappearance, with 
the parts John and Richard were supposed to have 
played in the affair, all just as Bill had heard it, 
years ago, from w the man who drove the wagon.” 

When they were through, Richard had rapidly 
dressed himself and quietly packed a valise. These 
preparations completed, he slipped quietly down- 
stairs. While eating his breakfast, he told his 


243 


DAVID’S QUEST 

stepmother that he found it necessary to go on a 
business trip, which would probably detain him for 
some time. He bade her good-bye, left a message 
for David whom he expressed a desire not to dis- 
turb so early in the morning, and gaily asked Gid- 
dings what he should bring him on his return. 

“ This is a very sudden trip, is it not, Richard?” 
inquired Martha Preston, as she sipped her tea. 

w No, ma’am,” he answered, politely ; M I have 
been wanting to go for some time, but have been 
waiting for David to get better before I left.” 

This was partially true, for Richard always 
wanted to go somewhere. 

“You see I can leave you now with a clear con- 
science,” he continued cheerfully, “ since David is 
here, because I am sure he will make a better head 
of the house than I can ever possibly be.” 

After this speech, he bade them all good-bye 
again with one of his sunny, happy-go-lucky 
smiles, so free from all responsibility, and departed, 
to remain out of the way until he was sure of 
their forgiveness for his part in David’s misfortune. 

Had he remained in his room a few minutes 
longer, he would probably not have found it nec- 
essary to go away. But his light nature could not 
bear any one’s displeasure, and he did not hear 


244 


MINE INHERITANCE 


David say after Bill had finished his story, “ I am 
glad you never told my mother, Uncle Bill. I 
don’t want you ever to tell her. There would be 
nothing to gain by her knowing it. Richard 
doesn’t seem to be so bad as he is weak. Possibly 
she could not forgive him, if she knew his part 
in her sufferings, and I don’t want us to add that 
bitterness to her other troubles.” 

w All right, Marse David, I’ll sholy be glad not 
to tell it, ’cause I’m feared missie would be mad at 
me fer not tellin’ her at fust,” replied the old 
darky in a relieved tone. 

“ Uncle Bill, mother’s been telling me how 
good you have been to her all these years. Now 
if there is anything you ever need, that I can do 
for you, I want you to be sure to let me know,” 
said David, giving the wrinkled old black face a 
grateful look. 

“ I am sholy much obliged to you, Marse David, 
but missis hev tuk keer of old Bill. She’s got a 
notion that I’se one of de bes’ fren’s she got and 
she sho is good to me.” 

“ I expect she has about the right notion,” 
replied David smiling. 

w But Marse David,” continued Bill hesitatingly, 
“there’s one thing missie is mighty sot about.” 


2 45 


DAVID’S QUEST 

“What is it, Bill? ” the young man inquired. 
u Well, she sho is sot ’bout chawin’ terbacker. 
She don’t never want me to spend no money she 
gives me for chawin’ terbacker, but ’tween me an’ 
you an’ the bed post thar, hit’s ’cause she never 
did learn what a comfort it is to a feller.” 

w All right, Bill,” answered David handing him 
a dollar out of his well-worn pocketbook. 

“ Thanky, Marse David, thanky,” and the old 
darky vanished to invest his wealth. 

An hour later Mrs. Preston came up to tell her 
son of Richard’s departure. David could not help 
a feeling of relief at the news, for he felt just a 
little unkindly toward this older brother, and was 
glad not to be thrown with him until he had 
overcome this attitude. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


GETTING ACQUAINTED 

D AVID found his mother intensely inter- 
esting. Beyond a doubt she was still 
a handsome woman. Yet, though in the 
prime of life, she seemed the oldest woman he 
had ever known. Her hair was so very white 
and she took life so seriously, that he could not 
imagine her as a young girl. He had never 
caught the slightest twinkle in her eye, and she 
seemed entirely lacking the sense of humor, 
while about her there was an ever present feel- 
ing of self-repression. Taken all together, it 
was a novel sensation to be getting acquainted 
with one’s own mother at twenty-five, to say 
nothing of walking from poverty into affluence, 
of being led through a severe spell of illness 
(after a twenty years’ absence) back to one’s 
own home and possessions. 

During David’s convalescence he took all this 
as it came, with quiet content, not troubling him- 
self about responsibility, either new or old. But 
246 


GETTING ACQUAINTED 247 

with returning health, various things began to 
weigh upon him. He had left home for a month’s 
vacation. That time was now long past. He 
had intended during that vacation to seek his 
mother, and if possible to find work elsewhere 
and begin a new life away from Mona or any- 
thing that could remind him of her. 

Now, he was evidently given new work by 
the hand of Providence, and it was the pleasant 
occupation of managing his own property, car- 
ing for his own mother and two afflicted brothers. 
He could readily give up all thoughts of the big 
lumber mill of which he had dreamed, and set 
himself to learn farming, in order to secure the 
best management of his own broad acres, because 
the latter was really more to his taste. Not for 
an instant had all these changes daunted him. 

But he could not forget Mona. He could not 
sum up courage even to take a little picture of 
her from his watch. He wondered how he could 
have given up and come away as he had, without 
even a struggle to win her affections, when she 
had positively declared that she did not love 
Flint. 

For days he debated as to whether he should 
write to her, to his former employer, and to Mrs. 


248 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Strong of his present surroundings, or leave him- 
self shrouded in the mystery in which he was, to 
them, at present surrounded. 

Finally he decided to write to Mrs. Strong of 
his present conditions, at the same time begging 
her not to mention him or his letters in writing 
back to Bess. Mona was probably married, while 
his employer had, no doubt, long since filled his 
place. There was no reason why they should all 
be disturbed with news of him. 

After the letter to Mrs. Strong was written, he 
took out his watch and gazed long at Mona’s face, 
after the manner of any young man engaged in 
forgetting the woman he loves. 

As he sat thus, his mother entered the room 
unobserved and sat down beside him. 

“ Is that Mona McArthur’s picture, David ? ” 
she inquired. 

“ Why, yes,” he answered in embarrassed sur- 
prise. “ How did you know of her ? ” 

“You talked a great deal of her marriage and 
your own disappointment while you were so ill. 
You hadn’t mentioned her since, so I supposed 
that to be a picture of her,” was the calm re- 
sponse. 

David sat silently gazing at the picture, and 


GETTING ACQUAINTED 249 

debating as to what reply he should make to 
this, when his mother inquired, M Is she married, 
David ? ” 

u I suppose so, by this time,” was the gloomy 
reply. 

a You have no right to keep her picture in that 
way if she is another man’s wife, my son,” de- 
clared his mother in a tone of gentle reproof. 

u If he has her, he ought not to begrudge me 
this little picture,” was the moody response. 

w No, but it does you harm,” urged she with 
gentle persistence. 

He set his lips firmly for a few minutes, then he 
answered gravely, “ No, mother, I have loved her 
and planned for her ever since she was born, 
twenty years ago. I cannot forget her nor cease 
to love her at will. It is not my nature to love 
many people, nor to cease loving one after I begin. 
Burning this little picture would not help, for 
whenever I close my eyes, her face is before me. 
I cannot tell you all she is to me but I will try.” 
Beginning as far back as he could remember, he 
told her of their lives together. When he was 
through he crossed his arms upon the table at his 
side and bowed his head upon them. 

His mother stood over him for a moment, and 


250 MINE INHERITANCE 

laying her hand upon the bowed head, she said 
softly, M May the Lord help you, my son, I can- 
not. ’’ Then she passed quietly from the room 
and left him to himself. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


A NEW FRIEND 

W HEN Mr. McArthur became convinced 
that Mona's marriage to Mr. Flint would 
not take place, he was so incensed that 
his former manner toward her was affable com- 
pared to the present. He showed her by every 
frigidly polite means in his power that he was so 
displeased with her conduct that nothing would 
relieve him so much as to have her vanish forever 
from his presence. He could not send her away, 
for he knew she was perfectly aware that a 
part of the home and a modest income were hers. 
She was not the shrinking, timid creature her 
mother had been. She possessed some of her 
father's stubbornness, when opposed, though, un- 
like him, she would make any sacrifice for those 
who loved her. 

While she held her ground in her own home, at 
times she found it very lonely. By and by she fell 
into the habit of running down to the little parson- 
age to spend an afternoon with Bess. These visits 
became more frequent as time passed. She had 
25 1 


MINE INHERITANCE 


252 

always looked upon the twins as too young for her 
companions, to Maud’s great disgust. Now that 
Bess was married, however, she seemed more 
womanly, besides being nearer to David than any 
one else in reach. 

The two soon became the best of friends. Mona 
frequently met the boyish young husband, in his 
own home, and grew to trust him. He was very 
kind to her, because Bess was so fond of her, his 
friend David loved her, and his own alert eyes saw 
her loneliness along with her ability to be so much 
more than she now was. He argued that if two 
such people as Bess and David loved her, she must 
be a lovable person. Because of his faith in his 
fellow beings, he was seldom disappointed in them, 
since it is human nature to try to be all that people 
think we are. Mona proved no exception to this 
rule. Gradually she began to attend church again, 
then Sabbath-school. Before a year had passed 
she had accepted Christ and become an earnest 
Christian worker, trying to take up the work that 
she felt in her heart she had caused David to leave ; 
finally, however, doing a work of her own that he 
could never have done, had he remained, since he 
lacked both the time and the adaptability, which 
she possessed in abundance. 


A NEW FRIEND 


253 


When Bess became a mother, Mona found a 
new interest in the chubby baby, for which she 
took many a dainty stitch. She never wearied of 
crooning over it and spending the great wealth of 
affection upon it, which for want of an object had 
heretofore gone to waste in her life. 

Of course she was a great help to the happy 
young mother, with her ever ready sympathy and 
interest. 

Late one gray November afternoon, she stopped 
at the parsonage door for a little visit. As she 
stood in the entry, preparatory to knocking, she 
heard Frank Trueheart call, “ Bess, here is a 
marked copy of the Dallas paper, sent me to-day, 
containing a brief notice of David Strong’s mar- 
riage. Could it be our David ? ” David’s disap- 
pearance was still a mystery to them all. 

The hand that Mona had raised to knock fell 
nerveless at her side, and she leaned heavily against 
the wall, as the reading fell upon her ear. When 
it was done she heard the rustle of skirts and knew 
that Bess had gone to read the news for herself. 
Presently Frank said, “ It must be our David, but 
why he has acted as he has, I cannot understand.” 

“ Oh, Frank, let’s write to him,” suggested Bess 
anxiously. 


*54 


MINE INHERITANCE 


u No, dear, I don’t believe it would be best. 
If he had wanted to hear from us, he would have 
written us long before this. I am sure there must 
be some good reason for his silence, because he is 
not a man to do things without a good and suffi- 
cient reason.” 

After this Mona slipped away, and they did 
not know the pain she had received upon their 
threshold. 

u David married.” It had never occurred to 
her that he could possibly marry any one but 
herself. Surely there must be some mistake. 
But the conversation at the parsonage went on. 
“ Frank,” said Bess, “ I can’t help believing that 
Mona had something to do with David’s disap- 
pearance. She has been so changed since the night 
he went away.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if it was a lover’s quarrel 
that sent him off ; but it has evidently hurt her as 
much as it could possibly have hurt him,” was the 
meditative answer. 

That night, as she was finishing her supper, 
Mr. Flint called to see Mona. She entered the 
parlor under the ever watchful eye of her step- 
mother, who did not give expression to her hopes 
as to the effect of this visit added to the news in 


A NEW FRIEND 


*55 

the morning’s paper, which had not escaped her 
vigilant scrutiny. 

After some conversation, in which Mr. Flint 
was very cheerful and Mona a trifle sad, he came 
bluntly to the object of his visit. 

u Miss Mona, I am not a man to beat the 
devil about the bush, as the saying goes. I read 
to-day in the Dallas paper that David Strong was 
married.” 

“ Is that so ? ” she inquired, but her evident lack 
of surprise convinced him that she had heard the 
news before. 

“ Yes,” he continued, feeling through his pock- 
ets, M I thought I had the paper, but I guess I lost 
it. Anyway he is married. Now, Miss Mona, it 
was over him that we quarreled and broke our en- 
gagement. I came to-night to see if you would 
not make up. I am not happy and I don’t believe 
you are.” 

Her eyes were on the floor, and she did not see 
the hungry look on the man’s face. She thought 
a moment, then said, as kindly as she could, 
“ No, Mr. Flint, I don’t think I care to marry 
any one.” 

Looking at her pale downcast face, he felt that 
he had blundered, but he plunged on desperately, 


256 


MINE INHERITANCE 


“ Miss Mona, I have made my own way in the 
world from a boy. I think I have succeeded fairly 
well, considering my circumstances. I haven’t set 
my heart on many things, but when I have, I 
haven’t given up until I got them. I have wanted 
you a long time, and it’s mighty hard for me to 
give up. I would do everything in my power to 
make you happy, if you would only risk me.” 

She hesitated only for an instant under his anx- 
ious gaze, then she answered : 

“ Honestly, Mr. Flint, I wish I could care for 
you in the way you want me to, but it is out of the 
question. When I promised to marry you before, 
I did not realize what it meant, but now it is ut- 
terly impossible, for I know I would wrong both 
you and myself to marry you.” 

“ Won’t you let me try to make you love me ? ” 
he begged. 

w No, it would only make us both unhappy, and 
do no good,” she replied. 

He sighed and asked sadly, w Is there no hope 
of your ever changing your mind ? ” 

She shook her head pityingly, but when he held 
out his hand, she took it and bade him a kind good- 
night. It seemed to her, just then, that so few 
people really loved her, she was loath to lose 


A NEW FRIEND 


257 

the love of this man, even though she could not 
love him. 

On the following Sunday, Mona was a little 
surprised to find Mr. Flint sitting near her in 
church. She had never seen him there before. 
She wondered if he came because of her, then felt 
ashamed for having such a thought. After that he 
always occupied the same seat both at Sabbath- 
school and church. There were others, besides 
Mona, who could not help questioning his motives, 
but they soon forgot these questions because of his 
evident interest. 

u He may have come at first to be near her,” 
declared the pastor to his wife, w but it is evident 
he comes now because he enjoys it.” 

Bess felt, however, that they entirely misjudged 
him ; that it was purely her husband’s splendid 
sermons which had attracted him ; and she conse- 
quently felt very kindly toward him. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


mona’s new interest 

O NE bright spring day, Mona came briskly 
into the parsonage, stopped to shower a 
handful of orange-blossoms over the laugh- 
ing, crowing baby, told Bess some recollection of 
the latter’s babyhood, but presently sobered down 
and said, w I almost forgot my business, Bess, in 
playing with the baby. Oh, you darling ! ” as she 
caught up the baby and softly squeezed it. Mona 
was passionately fond of children. After placing 
it comfortably upon her knee, she went on, u Bess, 
I have been to see a poor woman this morning. 
She is the most pitiable object I ever saw. She is 
sick in bed, has nobody to wait on her, except her 
little twelve year old daughter, who would be 
pretty if she did not look so starved. They haven’t 
a morsel to eat, nor a bed to sleep on, except a pile 
of straw. Ugh, it's perfectly awful ! I never saw 
such abject poverty in all my life.” 

“ Why, where in the world do they live ? ” de- 
manded the sympathetic Bess. 

258 


MONA’S NEW INTEREST 


259 

u In that little old tumble-down house up the 
river by North mill.” 

“ Oh ! ” gasped Bess, and her face hardened per- 
ceptibly; w Mona, you must not go there any more,” 
she said with matronly dignity. “ People talk 
about her. They say she is not the right kind of 
a woman.” 

“ I don’t suppose starving to death will make her 
any better,” answered Mona dryly. 

u Oh, no ; we must help them ; but people might 
make remarks if you went there, Mona,” she pro- 
tested. 

“ I have lived here all my life, Bess, and my 
reputation has been above question. If it won’t 
stand my going to see a sick starving woman and 
giving her all the help I can, then it’s a flimsy 
reputation, and not worth having.” 

M Yes, but a girl can lose a good name so easily,” 
protested Bess, anxiously. 

Mona hesitated, as if a little shy about speaking 
of such things, but finally said in a low tone, 
u When our Master was here he went to see any- 
body who needed him. It didn’t make any dif- 
ference how poor or how sinful he knew them to 
be ; and Bess — it’s enough for us to try to be like 
him, and I believe he can take care of my good 


26 o 


MINE INHERITANCE 


name better than I can. I feel impressed that God 
is leading me to go to see those people and wants 
me to do all in my power for them. Don't try to 
persuade me to give them up.” 

Bess said no more, but slipping an arm about 
Mona's waist, she kissed her fondly. The caress 
meant more to the lonely girl than Bess could 
know, for she was an affectionate, tender-hearted 
creature, and often longed for just such tenderness. 
Her surroundings at home had become so icy that 
they fairly made her shiver. 

“ Frank,” said Bess that night as she sat beside 
him, toasting the baby’s toes, as they had their cozy 
bedtime conversation, “ I almost wish Mona would 
marry Mr. Flint. If Davie is married, it won’t help 
him for her to remain single. I believe she would 
be so much happier married. She is so domestic 
and loves children better than any girl I ever 
saw. She has been miserable ever since her 
stepmother took the housekeeping out of her 
hands. It's just a shame for such a good wife to 
be wasted.” 

The reverend Mr. Trueheart smiled at his wife’s 
admiration of her own best qualities in another 
woman, as he answered, “ I don't think it will be 
Flint’s fault if she does not marry him.” 


MONA’S NEW INTEREST 261 

u I mean to talk to her about it the very next 
time she comes,” declared Bess stoutly. 

w Better not, she might ask you to mind your 
own love affairs,” he suggested, pinching her cheek. 
“ If I remember rightly, there was a certain little 
woman who deeply resented her people’s trying to 
persuade her to take pity on a poor parson.” 

“ No, Mona won’t ; I know her better than 
that,” she answered sagely, as she ignored his last 
remark, but smiled reminiscently at the fire and 
thought better of speaking to Mona on the subject 
of matrimony. 

The next day Mona made her way, according to 
her promise, to the sick woman’s house. She had 
sent provisions and a comfortable bed the day be- 
fore. But she realized that the poor sufferer stood 
in need of friendship and sympathy as much as food. 

The wan face lighted up with pleasure as she 
entered. The child ran to bring the one broken 
chair that the house contained for Mona to sit on. 

She sat down by the bed and said kindly, “You 
received the things all right, I see.” 

“ Oh, yes, they did help so much. I slept bet- 
ter last night than I have in a long, long time, and 
breakfast tasted real good this morning. I thought 
Estelle never would get enough to eat.” 


z6i 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Mona smiled one of her most winning smiles, 
and inquired what she could do next. “ I brought 
some clothes for your little girl, that a little friend 
of mine had outgrown, and here are two wrappers 
for yourself. It’s a real kindness for you to take 
them so I can have an excuse to make some more. 
I have so much time. You see I put a wide ruffle 
at the bottom to make them long enough,” and so 
she chatted on as she opened the bundle and laid 
out the things for them both to enjoy and Estelle 
to put away. 

A look of mingled pain and gratitude came over 
the poor thin face. Tears slowly gathered in the 
dark sunken eyes, and coursed down the wasted 
cheeks. 

“ I do appreciate all your kindness, Miss Mc- 
Arthur, more than I can tell ; but I didn’t think I 
would ever come to this. There was a time when 
I had everything I wanted, with no thought of 
poverty,” she said sorrowfully. 

u I am so glad that I have something to divide, 
now that you haven’t plenty. Perhaps some day 
you may be able to divide with me,” added Mona 
cheerily as she handed the garments to the de- 
lighted Estelle. 

When they were through with putting the 


MONA’S NEW INTEREST 263 

clothes away and had tidied up the room, Mona 
sent the child out to play in the sunshine, prom- 
ising to stay with her mother until she returned. 

When the woman was quite sure the little girl 
was out of hearing, she beckoned Mona to sit by 
the bed again, saying, w I am glad you could stay 
and send her away a little while, for I want to have 
a talk with you. I want to tell you about myself, 
then I shall ask a favor of you. My home was in 
Louisiana. My father owned a big plantation 
which he and my brother managed. My mother 
was dead, and I was necessarily a great deal alone. 
By and by there came bad crop years, until my 
father found it necessary to mortgage the planta- 
tion. After that we could never get out of debt. 

w One stormy night a handsome young man 
stopped and asked to spend the night. Of course, 
he stayed, for no one was ever turned away. The 
next morning found him quite unwell. From that 
he lingered until he had been there over a month. 
He was very pleasant, we all liked him and were 
glad of his company on the lonely plantation. My 
father and brother were busy a great deal so I was 
left to entertain the good-looking stranger. I was 
young, foolish and by most people called pretty. 
We spent hours together. Sometimes we strolled 


264 


MINE INHERITANCE 


about gathering wild flowers, sometimes he read to 
me while I sewed. Why my people did not realize 
that I was falling madly in love with him, I cannot 
tell. Finally he came one day and told me with a 
pale sad face that he must go away, but said he 
could not live without me, and I was easily per- 
suaded to accompany him. We planned to go to 
the nearest town and be married. It was a long 
way to town, and before we were much more than 
half way, there came up a regular summer storm, 
and we were compelled to spend the night at a 
small house on the way. To keep from exciting 
suspicion, my lover persuaded me to say that I was 
his wife, urging that it would not be very false, as 
I was to take his name as soon as we reached town 
the next morning. 

u When we awoke the next morning I overheard 
my father talking in a loud angry tone outside. 
Knowing his disposition I pleaded in terror with 
my lover to make his escape, knowing that if my 
father found him he would never rest until he had 
killed him. He bade me a tender farewell, and 
left me with the promise of meeting me, two days 
later, at a place we agreed upon, with a license and 
a minister. My father’s anger, when he found me 
alone, may be imagined. He searched for my 


MONA’S NEW INTEREST 265 

lover in vain, and finally carried me home. When 
I started to plead my cause, he sternly bade me be 
quiet, so there was nothing for me to do but wait 
until the time to meet my future husband. But the 
next morning my father informed me that I had a 
half-hour to prepare for a journey to a distant state, 
where I would in the future make my home with 
his sister. No amount of pleading could change 
him, so I sadly went on my journey. 

“ I found my aunt’s home unpleasant from the 
first, and daily hoped my lover would learn my 
whereabouts by some means and come for me. 

u Some time passed, then my aunt, finding what 
the near future held in store for me, turned me 
out of doors in bitter scorn. 

u As best I could, I made my way back to my 
old home, only to find that my father and brother 
had moved away, that my former friends would 
not ever recognize me in my shame, and that the 
man I expected to marry had returned for me, but, 
being unable to learn my whereabouts, had gone, 
no one knew whither. I took his name, and 
from that day to this I have passed for, what I 
truly am at heart, a widow. Since that time I 
have drifted from place to place, making a living 
the best I could, until now I am past work. I 


266 


MINE INHERITANCE 


have never told any one my story before, but 
somehow the awful shadow has followed me all 
my life, and I suppose must continue to follow 
my poor little girl. I know it must seem to you 
that I have acted very badly, and I know I did 
wrong, but please don’t forget that I was very 
young, that I had no mother to advise me, and 
that I truly believed in the man who asked me to 
be his wife. I would never have told all this, 
but I know I am liable to pass away at any time, 
and I wanted you, who have been so kind, to 
know it, and then I want to ask you to get my 
little daughter a good home after I am gone. Here 
is her father’s picture. If I could have lived, she 
should never have seen it or him, but I have to 
leave her to some one else to care for. When 
she is older, if you think best, you may give it to 
her, so that if she ever meets him, she can make 
herself known to him by it, and possibly he will 
take care of her. I have done the best I could.” 

She slipped a little locket from a chain about 
her neck, handed it to Mona, then wearily closed 
her eyes. 

She did not see the latter turn pale, as her gaze fell 
upon a picture wonderfully resembling David Strong. 
There were the same dark hair and clear eyes 


MONA’S NEW INTEREST 267 

looking out at her. She caught her breath and 
glanced away, but in a moment her eyes were fixed 
upon the picture again. She knew that David 
could not have been in Louisiana since he was a 
little child. On second scrutiny, she found that 
the chin did not have that square, firmly-set look 
that David’s had, the mouth and nose were perhaps 
more delicate, but all bore a look of weakness 
that David had never had, though at first glance 
the picture bore a striking resemblance to him. 
Again the picture was that of a man, evidently 
about David’s present age, although it must 
have been taken some twelve or fifteen years ago. 
With a long drawn sigh of relief she turned the 
locket over and curiously read the initials upon 
the back, R. P., until she was sure they with the 
face, were indelibly fixed in her memory. When 
she glanced back at the woman she found her 
gazing steadily at her. 

w Do you know him ? ” she questioned hesi- 
tatingly. 

w No,” was Mona’s cheerful answer as she 
handed back the locket, adding, u You keep it as 
long as you live. If you should be taken away, 
I will keep it for your little girl and in every 
possible way do the best I can for her.” 


268 


MINE INHERITANCE 


Presently Estelle came in, and Mona took her 
departure. She went every day to see the invalid, 
and became very much attached to the little girl. 
Some weeks later the woman died. After the 
burial Mona put the locket away in her pocket 
and carried Estelle home with her to spend the 
night, intending to begin a search for a suitable 
home on the following day. But the next morn- 
ing Mona was ill, and remained so for many days. 
While it was not a serious illness, it confined her 
to her room for some time. Mrs. McArthur, who 
would otherwise have objected to the child’s pres- 
ence, was evidently glad to have her to wait on 
Mona and so relieve herself of that care. 

Estelle was a bright, docile little creature, and 
had grown to love Mona devotedly. She would 
sit silently on a little stool by Mona’s side for hours, 
watching her face as if to divine her slightest wish. 
At times her devotion became almost pitiful. For 
Mona to make a request of her always brought a 
smile of delight to the eager face. She was so 
thin, so quick in her movements, her eyes were so 
bright and restless, that she reminded Mona of a 
poor little half-starved bird hopping about the hand 
that had fed and caressed it. At times she would 
be overcome with grief for her mother, though 


MONA'S NEW INTEREST 269 

she never mentioned the beloved name. At such 
times she would throw herself sobbing at Mona's 
feet, and twining her arms about her benefactor’s 
knees, she would always cry, “ Oh, Miss Mona, 
what would I do without you ? '' One afternoon, 
as Mona improved, she sat reading M Bleak House,” 
which she found very entertaining. 

By and by she looked up to find the child gazing 
longingly at her. “Well, what is it, Estelle?” 
she inquired, smiling as she laid aside her book. 

“ I was just watching you read. It seemed to be 
lots of fun. You smile sometimes, then sometimes 
you wipe your eyes, and all the time you don't 
look like you remember anything else but what you 
read.” 

“Yes, it is a great pleasure. Don’t you like to 
read ? ” asked Mona. 

“I think I would,” answered Estelle, after a 
moment's embarrassed hesitation. 

“ Oh, I see. You haven't learned yet. I never 
thought of that. You use very good language, and 
it never occurred to me that you did not read. I 
was very thoughtless not to notice it, but never 
mind, now while I have so little to do I am going 
to teach you. That will entertain us both,” she de- 
clared enthusiastically. 


270 


MINE INHERITANCE 


“ Oh, will you ? ” cried the little girl, springing 
to her feet in her excitement. 

u Why, of course,” was the reply. Going to 
her closet Mona presently brought out a book, and 
they had a lesson without delay. Once started 
Mona found she could hardly stop the child. The 
poor little mind seemed even more starved than the 
body had been. Every day Estelle begged so hard 
for just one more lesson that Mona found it almost 
impossible to stop her. She effected a compromise 
by reading stories to her charge. After her own 
supply of story-books was exhausted, she procured 
more from various friends for her rapt listener. 
To this bright uneducated mind, these days were a 
continual dream of delight. A new world had 
opened before her, in which she reveled as one in 
a delightful dream. But she did not cease to be a 
faithful nurse. Her experience in caring for her 
mother now stood her in good stead. Her love for 
Mona made her a willing slave. Her ready feet 
ran numerous errands for her benefactor, and she 
little dreamed that she was often sent out purely to 
get the sunshine and outdoor exercise, which she 
so much needed. 

In a short while Mona thought best to add some 
simple lessons in arithmetic, then other studies, 


MONA’S NEW INTEREST 


271 


until her pupil was making rapid progress in reg- 
ular school work. Her mind and body were both 
progressing rapidly under Mona’s teaching, nor was 
her spiritual welfare neglected. Mona began by 
telling her Bible stories, but soon gave up and read 
them to her from the book. 

This pleasant work had gone on for some weeks, 
and Mona was seriously considering the adoption 
of her little companion, when Mr. McArthur, at 
the instigation of his wife, objected to the child’s 
presence. On seeing Mona quite well again, the 
mistress of the house had become alarmed at the 
attachment between them, and wished it discon- 
tinued. 

The companionship of the child had grown very 
sweet to Mona in the loneliness of the past weeks, 
and she was loath to give Estelle up. She even 
contemplated adopting her in spite of her father’s 
wishes, but she decided it would not be best to 
oppose him unnecessarily, so she sought with a 
heavy heart for a new home in which she might 
place the child. She was not at all successful in 
this undertaking. Homes she could find, but where 
the child would become a servant and have no op- 
portunities for an education. These she could not 
make up her mind even to consider. While her 


MINE INHERITANCE 


272 

own income was sufficient for her and Estelle’s 
present needs, if she might keep the latter with her, 
yet she knew it was impossible for her to send her 
charge away to school. At last in her great dis- 
couragement, she brought her troubles to her 
Heavenly Father, whereupon there came to her, as 
by inspiration, a thought which she put into prompt 
execution. 

A few days later, she received a letter over which 
she smiled happily. When Estelle was at leisure, 
she called her to sit down upon her little stool for 
an important talk. 

The little girl’s face became very sad when 
Mona said, “ Now, dear, I cannot keep you with 
me much longer, but where I went to college, the 
president’s wife is the kind good woman I have 
told you so much about. She has been such a 
dear friend to me, and so I wrote to her the other 
day about you. In that school they take a number 
of girls every year and let them pay their expenses 
by washing dishes. I can buy your books and 
clothing, making the latter myself. She says she 
has a vacancy, and can take you in that way if you 
wish to come. She will keep you there until you 
have finished your education, and then if I still 
cannot have you with me, they will probably give 


MONA’S NEW INTEREST 


273 


you some position in the school. You can begin 
with them now, as they have a preparatory depart- 
ment as well as the regular college course. Would 
you like to go ? 99 

“ Oh, Miss Mona, there is nothing I would like 
better if I didn’t have to leave you ! ” she cried, 
bursting into sobs. 

“Well, dear, you will do a great deal better 
there than I could possibly do for you if you stayed 
with me. I will write to you every week, and 
send you everything you need. I am sure it is the 
finest opportunity for you that I could possibly 
find.” 

M I shall be glad to have the chance, but it seems 
hard to leave any one I love so much, especially as 
you are the only friend I have in the world,” she 
answered, striving vainly to check her sobs. 

w Oh, yes, but you will have me just the same, 
and make lots of new friends there besides,” de- 
clared Mona with ready sympathy. 

Presently the little girl was comforted, and to- 
gether they planned for the going away. 

Mona accompanied her, quite willing to visit the 
school. She was received with such a warm wel- 
come as to make little Estelle’s heart swell with 
pride in her benefactor. 


274 


MINE INHERITANCE 


After a few days’ visit, Mona left her charge 
well satisfied and came back to her lonely life at 
home. She found wholesome employment in mak- 
ing the sum heretofore used for her own clothing 
suffice for both, doing all of her sewing now, in 
order to invest her money in good material. To 
her surprise she was less lonely than before she 
took the child into her life. Now she had so 
much more to keep her busy and employ her 
thoughts. This was good for her, as she had no 
intimate friends left now but busy Bess, her other 
old friends having married, moved away, or grown 
away from her since she had left her old butterfly 
life for serious work. 

Even mammy had drifted back to her old home, 
and now lived with her son Jeff, of whom she was 
quite as fond as she was of Mona. 

No doubt she would have felt as lonely, at this 
time, as if she had not a relative in the world, but 
for the child that had been placed in her care. 
No one knew what pleasure she found in reading 
the cramped little letters that came each week 
freighted with care, painstaking and love for her. 
Of course, they were promptly answered. These 
regular letters each week also bound her all the 
more closely to her college. Dear old school, 


MONA’S NEW INTEREST 


275 


where so many girls had been given the opportu- 
nity to gain an education by the toil of their own 
hands ! Many are the women who will rise up to 
call thee blessed ! 

As to Estelle’s history, Mona had decided, after 
due deliberation, to tell no one the story the dying 
mother had told her. She could at least start her 
charge out unhampered by such a shadow. No 
one except herself, not even the child, knew the 
story. Why hang it as a millstone about her neck ? 

She soon found that she still had time to spare, 
but as she became more interested in church work, 
she learned there was plenty to do there. Under 
Frank Trueheart’s direction, she hunted up poor 
little unkempt waifs, and, after getting them some- 
thing to wear, started them in the Sabbath-school. 
At the suggestion of Bess, she established a large 
box in one of the parsonage closets, where their 
children’s outgrown clothing was deposited by 
friends, to be dealt out to those who could not 
go to Sabbath-school or church for want of some- 
thing to wear. This enterprise well started, she 
became the secretary and treasurer of the Sabbath- 
school, starting a Sabbath-school library, which was 
received with delight by the children. 

Next she organized the young people into a 


276 MINE INHERITANCE 

missionary and library society. Before she real- 
ized it, she was one of the busiest women in town, 
and with her work came new friends and happi- 


CHAPTER XXX 


A NEW OCCUPATION 

W HEN health came back, David set him- 
self just as diligently to study farming 
and the wise management of his prop- 
erty, as he had studied his lessons at Mrs. Strong’s 
knee in boyhood days, or later the work of his 
employer, when he had planned to be a lumber- 
man. He studied his work, his renters, his hands 
and his servants, for their needs as well as his own. 

He conscientiously strove to do his duty by all 
who came under his directions, to be a faithful 
steward of what his Lord had put in his keeping. 

In his watch remained the picture of the 
merry, bright-eyed girl, who had grown to be a 
part of his very life. 

His mother made rather unskilful efforts to 
throw him with other girls, hoping he might find 
one who could make him forget Mona McArthur. 
Sometimes her efforts made him smile, but he never 
reproached her, feeling that in time she would give 
it up. Any change was hard for him to make, 
especially one that had entered into his very life. 
At last his mother one day asked, u David, don’t 
277 


MINE INHERITANCE 


278 

you think you ought to hunt a wife and settle 
down ? ” 

w I am settled, mother,” he answered quietly. 

“Yes, but I would be glad to see you happy 
with a wife. I know you must get lonely at 
times,” she persisted. 

“Well, I have you and Hugh,” he answered, 
laying an affectionate hand upon his younger 
brother’s shoulder, that instantly brought a happy 
smile to the patient face. 

“ But we do not take the place of a wife. We 
have our own places to fill.” 

w There never was but one woman for me, 
mother. Marriage to another would be a mockery. 
It may be wrong, but if I knew she needed me or 
that I could help her, I would go to her in spite of 
every other woman in the world. It would not be 
right for me to marry some one else, feeling that 
way, would it ? ” he asked looking into her eyes 
with a longing that hurt her. 

u I wish you could overcome that,” she answered 
sadly. 

“Well, if I ever find one that I can care for, I 
will try to win her, but as long as Mona is first, I 
won’t offer another woman what I don’t possess. 
Will that do ? ” 


A NEW OCCUPATION 


279 

w I suppose it must,’* she replied, and ceased her 
efforts to arouse his interest in any one else. 

But David was not unhappy. Between his 
work, the church, in which he had quickly taken 
an interest, and the making of his mother, Hugh 
and even poor Giddings happy by his kind con- 
sideration, he managed to find ample employment. 

Five years glided by in this quiet busy life. 
There was little change in David except that he 
grew broader, acquired the ease that the society of 
cultured people gives and, in fact, developed into 
the strong well-rounded character he had long 
given promise of becoming. 

One December morning his mother received 
and handed him a telegram from Richard, saying 
that he would be home in a day or two. 

u Why, it’s from B . I did not know he 

was there ! ” exclaimed David, at once becoming 
interested. “ I have wondered if he were never 
coming home again,” he continued, still curiously 
inspecting the telegram, as he talked. 

M Oh, I have long ceased to worry over 
Richard,” answered his mother. “ Ever since 
the war, he has been this way. I have thought 
perhaps it was because of John’s death, but he 
never remains at home many months at a time. 


280 


MINE INHERITANCE 


This, however, had been the longest absence he 
has ever made.” 

“Well, I am glad he is coming from B , 

mother. You don’t know how hard I have tried 
to put that old life out of my mind, but I do long 
for news of my old home,” said David, expecting 
a mild reproof in reply. 

w If I were you, I would go back and make a 
visit. It would do you good,” suggested his 
mother, hoping that this might cure his longing 
for Mona more quickly than anything else. 

u Perhaps I will,” he answered more eagerly 
than she had ever heard him speak before. w I 
have long wanted to go, but thought maybe I 
ought not. I don’t think I could bear to see her 
unhappy.” 

w Perhaps she is happy. Doubtless she is 
greatly changed. It might be the best thing for 
you,” was the hopeful response. He smiled at the 
suggestion underneath her words, but brightened 
up at the thought of the coming visit. 

She wondered, as she noticed the change in his face, 
why she hadn’t thought of this suggestion before. 

A few mornings later, Richard, who had arrived 
the previous night, was telling of his travels, when 
David came out of a brown study to inquire, 


A NEW OCCUPATION 281 


w Your telegram was from B . Did you 

meet many people there ? ” 

“ Yes, I spent two or three weeks there. I 
liked it pretty well ; met quite a number of nice 
folks.” 

“ Did you meet a Mr. McArthur ? ” was 
David’s next query. 

u No, I heard of him, but I took more interest 
in his pretty daughter, whom I saw soon after I 
got there. I wanted to meet her, but a fellow by 
the name of Saunders, Harry, I think, said it was 
no use, that she hadn’t hardly looked at a man for 
years. It seems, from all I could learn, that she 
had been in love with a fellow. He had suddenly 
gone away and she took it pretty hard, gave up 
society and took to religion and all that sort of 
thing,” continued the voluble Richard, who though 
nearing forty was still a gay bachelor quite sus- 
ceptible to feminine charms. 

Martha Preston glanced quickly at David’s face. 
The expression thereon made her drop her eyes as 
quickly to her plate. For a moment his poor 
starved heart was in his eyes, the next he was quite 
himself. Presently Richard inquired, “Were you 
ever in B ? ” 


w Oh, yes, I was reared there.” 


282 


MINE INHERITANCE 


“ Probably you know Saunders ? ” 

“ Yes, quite well,” was the answer. 

“ Did you know Miss McArthur ? ” 

“ We were neighbors,” David replied. 

“ Humph, and you asked about her father and 
didn’t say a word about a girl like that. You are 
woman proof,” declared Richard gaily. 

“ Yes,” assented David smiling, then rising 
from the table, he said, u Mother, will you pack 
my clothes ? I want to take a little trip and will 
be very busy this morning. I want to leave on the 
noon train.” 

w Certainly,” she answered, but her heart sank a 
little, for she could but dread the result of this trip, 
whichever way it terminated. Should David’s suit 
be successful, she did not know what kind of a 
daughter he might bring her; if he failed, then he 
must fight his long battle over again. But she 
trusted in God. While she packed his clothes, she 
prayed for the wearer and her own heart was com- 
forted. 

When he returned it was for his dinner, his 
valise and a hasty farewell. 

“ If I can, I shall bring her back with me. I 
can’t be back to spend Christmas, but I hope to be 
here by the New Year.” 


A NEW OCCUPATION 283 

u God bless you ! ” was her answer, as she kissed 
him good-bye. He went away with an eager alert- 
ness she had never seen in him before. 

“ Dear boy,” she said to herself, as she watched 
him vanish down the street. w I didn’t know hope 
would change him so much.” 


CHAPTER XXXI 


DAVID AND MONA 

T O David, his journey seemed interminable. 
At last, on Christmas eve, in the gathering 
dusk, he left the train, and walked briskly 

down the streets of B . He did not have time 

to note the changes in the old town. He could 
do that later. His sole thought was to see Mona 
McArthur, and as soon as possible make her his 
wife. When he finally reached her home, rang 
the bell and waited, it seemed to him hours, for the 
door to open, it was at last to be met by disappoint- 
ment. A sleepy-eyed negro woman opened the 
door and informed him that u Miss Mona done 
gone ter help fix up a Christmas tree.” 

“ Which one, whereabouts ? ” demanded David 
impatiently. 

“ Dunno, sir,” was the answer. 

“ When will she be back ? ” he inquired help- 
lessly. 

“ I ’speck she’ll be back diraictly. If you lacks 
284 


DAVID AND MONA 285 

you kin jes’ step inter ther parlor and wait fer 
her.” 

David decided this was the best thing he could 
do. There was a big fire burning in the open fire- 
place, which gave the whole room a bright cheer- 
ful glow. Upon one side of the fire was a large 
armchair, while upon the other a low couch in- 
vited the tired traveler to repose. He did not think 
of the possible consequences, should Mr. McArthur 
come in and find him there ; in fact, he did not 
think of Mr. McArthur at all. He settled him- 
self to wait for Mona. He was quite tired, the 
warm room made him drowsy after his brisk walk 
in the open air, and the couch was very comfort- 
able. Before he knew it he was half asleep, and 
remained so for some minutes, then a quick step 
in the hall, a rustle of skirts and a gentle closing 
of the parlor door aroused him to a wide-awake 
eagerness, but he resolutely kept his eyes closed 
and lay quite still waiting for her to recognize him. 
He longed to look at her but stubbornly waited. 
She did not see him until she reached the middle 
of the floor. Then with a quick little cry she 
stood beside him. tc Davie, my dear old Davie ! ” 
she joyously murmured, then kneeling beside him 
she looked longingly into his face. 


286 


MINE INHERITANCE 


When he could bear it no longer, the great gray 
eyes opened and a wonderfully tender smile lit up 
the strong handsome face. 

44 My own little girl ! ” he said taking her face 
between his hands and looking so lovingly into her 
eyes that it made her face rosy. 

u I learned three days ago that you were not 
married, and I came straight here to ask you to 
marry me, now, to-night ! Will you ? ” he begged, 
his voice quivering with eagerness. 

She could bear no more, and in another instant 
her face was on the broad shoulder near her, while 
she sobbed as if her heart would break. 

w There, there, little girl,” said David gravely as 
he patted the much loved head in troubled perplex- 
ity. 44 If you can’t care for me as I wish, it is all 
right. I’ll go away and bear it the best I can and 
never trouble you again.” 

M Oh, Davie ! ” she gasped, 44 it’s not that, I do 
care more than I can tell. But I was so lonely, 
and sad and tired. I felt like nobody wanted me or 
cared for me. Everybody had Christmas cheer and 
I was shut out. Oh, you don’t know how hard I 
prayed, coming home to-night, not to feel wicked. 
I have worked so hard all day trying to make 
somebody else happy and forget about myself, but 



11 MY OWN LITTLE GIRL " 







DAVID AND MONA 


287 

when I came home and the house looked so lonely, 
I felt like I could not bear it another minute. 

Then I came in and found ” 

“ Found somebody who has wanted you all 
your life more than anything else in the world,” fin- 
ished David, elated to find himself such a success 
at comforting her. 

Presently there was a sound of shuffling feet 
coming up the hall, then a voice in the doorway 
said, “Miss Mona, supper done been ready along 
time.” 

“ All right, Jane,” was the happy answer, then 
looking at the clock on the mantel she gave a little 
scream of dismay saying, “ Oh, Davie, I’ve prom- 
ised the children to get back to the Christmas tree 
in one hour. Half the time is gone already and 
I haven't eaten supper or dressed.” She glanced 
down at the rents in her dress, which she had for- 
gotten until now, made while working on the 
Christmas tree that afternoon. 

“ Tomboy,” said David, pinching her cheek as 
his eyes followed her glance. 

w Now, Davie,” she said leading the way to the 
dining-room, u you eat your supper while I go and 
make myself presentable.” 

u No, I am not going to eat without you any 


288 


MINE INHERITANCE 


more. You are tired and must not go without 
your supper,” he answered positively. 

She sat down very demurely, and ate without 
more ado. 

u Where is your father ? ” David suddenly 
thought to ask. 

“ Oh, they went to Alabama to spend Christmas. 
I don’t know what possessed papa. I never knew 
him to take a vacation before.” 

“ Are you here all alone ? ” demanded David 
savagely. 

u Yes, I did not care to accompany them and 
they did not care to have me,” she answered with 
cheerful frankness, for now that David had come, 
she felt that nothing else mattered. 

w Now, Davie, I simply must dress.” 

He laid a detaining hand upon her arm as she 
started to pass him. w Put on your prettiest dress, 
for this is your wedding night,” he said. 

u Davie,” she laughed, M you surely don’t expect 
me to marry on such short engagement as this ; in 
fact, I don’t believe we are even engaged.” 

w Never mind that, we are going to marry to 
night anyway,” he answered coolly. 

M Where ? ” she demanded, saucily. 

“ Anywhere you like,” was his serene reply. 


DAVID AND MONA 


289 


“ Don’t you think you are a trifle dictatorial ? ” 
she questioned as she dodged past him and made 
her way up to her room. 

She was back again in a few minutes looking, to 
David’s eyes, lovelier than he had ever seen her. 

u Where are we going to be married ? ” he ques- 
tioned as they went out into the starlight. 

M I think Santa Claus will marry us at the 
Christmas tree,” she answered softly. 

u I guess we had better stop and get our license 
on the way,” said David in a tone that indicated 
quiet satisfaction. 

This off* his mind, he spent the remainder of the 
walk in a brief account of his movements from the 
last time he was with her until the present. Then 
he listened to her ups and downs, what a lonely 
life she had led, how she thought David was mar- 
ried until a few weeks ago, when Mr. Flint had 
confessed to having put a notice of David Strong’s 
marriage in the paper, hoping that she would then 
marry him. But sweetest of all to David’s ears 
was how she had missed and longed for him ever 
since he had gone away. They reached the church 
before they realized it. 

After the Christmas tree was cleared of its 
splendid fruit, the audience was astonished and de- 


290 


MINE INHERITANCE 


lighted, when their pastor announced that Santa 
Claus had added a special feature to their program ; 
and presently David and Mona stood beneath 
its boughs and had a simple wedding. Afterward 
they had to go home with Frank and Bess for a 
little visit, so quite two hours had passed before 
they reached their own door again. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


THE NEW HOME 

“ T ELL, we promised Bess last night 

%/\/ that we would eat Christmas dinner 
with her to-day, so I guess we had 
better spend the time, until we go down there, 
packing up my things, had we not ? ” questioned 
Mona, stopping from her dusting to perch on the 
arm of David’s chair before the parlor fire on 
Christmas morning. 

w There is no great hurry about the packing. I 
should not mind spending three or four days here 
looking up old friends. That will give you time 
to tell everybody good-bye and put everything in 
order,” answered David who felt loath to think of 
making any change in his easy surroundings, which 
he greatly enjoyed, especially with Mona always 
in reach. 

“ Why, what in the world were you in such a 
mortal hurry about marrying last night for, if you 
did not have to go right back ? ” demanded the 
saucy bride, admiring the strong healthy face before 
her more than she would have admitted, even to 
291 


292 


MINE INHERITANCE 


him. Evidently his past five years had not been 
wasted, for he had acquired ease, a certain polish, 
and a settled manliness that he had not possessed 
before he went away. 

An amused twinkle came into his eyes at her 
question, but he took her hands into his own, pre- 
tending to inspect them very gravely, turning them 
over but holding them close all the time. Finally 
he looked up to see if she were getting impatient, 
but finding that she was not he answered : “ Well, 
in the first place, I had taken a few days off from 
my work and I wanted my honeymoon to begin 
while I had time to enjoy it, not just as I was ready 
to go back to my work. For you must know, Mrs. 
Preston, that your husband is a very busy man. 
Again, I knew if I let you wait until the last min- 
ute, you would insist upon a wedding dress, which 
was entirely unnecessary as you always have plenty 
of clothes. I wanted you, not the wedding dress. 
After a man has waited twenty-five years for a 
woman to grow up, and his opportunity comes, he 
ought not to be accused of haste, even if he is not 
willing to wait twenty-five minutes longer. ,, 

u I suppose not,” answered Mona in a meek 
tone that her expression wholly contradicted. She 
enjoyed this masterful lover, and secretly wondered 


THE NEW HOME 


293 


whether his five years’ experience away from her 
had wrought the change in him, or if it had come 
suddenly with his success in wooing her. She de- 
cided it must be both. 

“ The only thing I don’t like about all this is 
staying here at your father’s house without his 
knowledge, especially as I fear I might not be wel- 
come if he knew it,” went on David more soberly. 

Mona sat up very straight, saying in her most 
dignified tone, “This is my house, as well as 
papa’s. My husband has as much right here as his 
wife. Of course, it wouldn’t be pleasant if they 
were here, but that would be because of my pre- 
ferring you to Mr. Flint. Now that doesn’t sound 
very homelike, I’ll admit, but we can be cozy here 
with nobody to interfere.” 

“ Never mind, we are going to a home that we 
can make what we like. Mother and my brothers 
will love you. We will be as happy as it is possi- 
ble for anybody to be,” declared David, to comfort 
her, for he read the longing for love and tenderness 
in that proud heart better than she realized. 

They had a delightful day with Frank and Bess. 
Both of them rejoiced in the new happiness of 
these dear friends, though dreading inexpressibly to 
give them up. 


294 


MINE INHERITANCE 


After the dinner was over, Frank had to take 
David for a short stroll just to tell him what a fine 
Christian Mona had become. Nothing could have 
added to David's happiness more than this, for who 
of us do not rejoice when our prayers for our best 
beloved are answered ? 

After their walk, the two men came back to a 
wonderfully pretty picture. Bess with her baby in 
her arms sat before the fire smiling at Mona and 
David’s namesake having a jolly romp about the 
room. 

When the day was past Mona and David came 
back to their own fireside. 

“This has been the happiest day in my whole 
life,” declared Mona, nestling down upon the sofa 
beside her husband. It was a little early to light 
the lamp, so they sat in the glow of the firelight 
brimful of Christmas good will. 

“ I don’t think I need even tell you that I am 
happy,” he replied, drawing her close to him. 

“Yes, I want you to tell me when you are 
happy. I don’t care if it’s every day of your life. 
I don’t want us to take things for granted. I am 
tired of seeing people do that. It isn’t hard to 
show our love and happiness while showing them 
adds to the happiness of others.” 


THE NEW HOME 


295 


u All right, I am the very happiest man alive 
and expect to continue so as long as I live,” he 
gaily responded to her mood. 

“That's better,” she said, leaning her head 
against his shoulder, and smiling into the fire. 

u When you spoke just now, I was thinking of 
the five years of happiness we have lost through 
my own rash folly,” said David, thoughtfully. 

“ Is it lost ? ” she asked. 

“ Perhaps not,” he answered, then waited for her 
to continue. She was silent a moment, then went 
on, “ No, dear, I am sure it is not lost, though I 
don’t think I could have said so if you hadn’t come 
back to me. As it is, I believe it’s the best. If 
we had not misunderstood each other, you prob- 
ably would never have found your people and your 
inheritance that your mother had managed for you 
so long. God had that work for you to do and I 
believe he brought you here, gave you the training 
of poverty with plenty of hard work, so that you 
might be able to use more wisely what your grand- 
father left you. 

u If I had continued to have you to depend on, 
I should never have learned to depend upon God. 
He had to take away my best friend, leaving me 
lonely and sad, for me to find out what a faithful 


296 


MINE INHERITANCE 


friend he could be. Oh, Davie, you don’t know 
how hard it was to find out how we loved each 
other, only to have you suddenly disappear ! Life 
seemed so hard and bitter that had I not been 
afraid of death, I should have prayed to die. But 
God gave me Bess and Frank to help me, and in 
my great need they showed me my best Friend. 
After that I felt that I had driven you away and 
must try, the best I could, to take your work.” 

After this he told her of his prayers that she 
might become a child of God and that he might 
find his mother. 

“ Why, Davie, you prayed like that and then 
are worrying because God answered your prayers ! ” 
she exclaimed. 

“ I’m afraid that is just what I was doing,” he 
admitted. 

u Never mind, dear, we have God and each 
other. What more can we ask for the future ? ” 
she cried joyously. 

For answer he swept her into a close embrace 
and pressed a lingering kiss upon her lips. After 
this, they sat in the flickering firelight, each know- 
ing the other’s heart and finding no words to ex- 
press their mutual content. 

The next morning David had a long talk with 


THE NEW HOME 


297 

his old employer, who was highly gratified at the 
young man’s good fortune. 

In the afternoon Mona said, w Davie, there is an 
old woman here in town that I want you to visit 
with me. I think you have seen her before, but I 
am not certain.” 

David readily agreed, asking no questions, for it 
was evident that Mona wanted to give him some 
kind of a surprise. 

She took him to a little oldtumbled-down house on 
a back street. An old woman with yellowish gray 
hair, a faded dress and a wrinkled leathery face, 
sat in an old broken rocking-chair by the window. 
Her face lit up with pleasure at sight of Mona, 
then changed to a look of perplexity as she caught 
sight of the stranger with her. 

“ Granny,” said Mona, after introducing “Mr. 
Preston,” seating him in the only other chair the 
room contained, then drawing a little box up close 
to the old woman’s chair for herself, w I want you 
to tell this gentleman about that little boy you car- 
ried around in the wagon so long ago. I think 
perhaps he knows something about the boy.” 

The woman looked eagerly at him out of her 
dim old eyes, then told her story in a quavering 


voice. 


MINE INHERITANCE 


298 

When she had finished, Davie came and stooped 
over her saying, w Mammy, don’t you know me ? 
I am your little boy.” 

“ Hit shorely air not leetle David ! ” she quav- 
ered, ending with a little inarticulate cry of delight. 

u Yes, mammy, I came back here two nights 
ago to marry this little girl, and take her home 
with me. Five years ago I found my mother and 
my old home, and everything is well with me.” 

“Thank the good Lord fer that!” she ejaculated. 
“ But Davie, what did you do before you went back 
to your home ? ” she questioned. “ I hev been a 
wen-yin’ about you a long time.” 

“ Why, the dear woman on whose steps you 
left me was all a mother could be to any man. 
So you see God gave me three mothers where he 
gives most men only one. But mammy, I have 
to go home in a few days. My own mother is 
anxious to get acquainted with my wife, but 
before I go I want to make you comfortable 
for the rest of your life.” 

She thanked him so gratefully that it brought 
tears to Mona’s eyes. 

The two asked each other many questions, the 
old woman rejoicing in one breath over his prosper- 
ity, the next lamenting that Mona was going away. 


THE NEW HOME 


299 

w She’s been mighty good to me, Davie, an’ you 
must take good keer of her,” she cautioned. 

u Why, granny, he has been taking care of me 
all my life, until five years ago when he became dis- 
gusted and went away. Not long ago he decided 
he could not trust me to myself, so he came back 
and married me so he could make me mind. You 
should just hear him now. I tell you he speaks 
as one having authority,” declared Mona, mis- 
chievously. 

The old soul smiled a troubled smile and said as 
she patted Mona’s hand, “ It look like all sunshine 
now, chile, but merried women don’t generally 
always have a good time.” Then turning back 
to the husband she asked, u Promise me, Davie, 
ye’ll be good to her. I want she should be happier 
then I hev been.” 

w Yes, mammy, I’ll promise. I couldn’t help 
it. I have loved her so long.” 

After his promise she watched them go away 
together satisfied. 

Before he and Mona went home they made 
every arrangement for the old woman’s comfort 
that they could think of, and left her happy in the 
promise not to forget her. 

The last morning before their departure a tele- 


3 00 


MINE INHERITANCE 


gram came in answer to one sent by Mona to 
her father, on the day after their marriage. It 
said, u You have made your choice. You must 
abide by it.” She struggled bravely to show no 
sign of the hurt it gave her, but her chin would 
quiver, while she had to set her lips together very 
hard indeed. 

David, quick to read every expression of her 
face, saw her pain. Rejoicing that he at last had 
the right, he drew her into his sheltering arms and 
whispered, as she buried her face on his shoulder, 
“Don’t worry about it; that’s just his way, 
dearie. He doesn’t mean any harm by it.” 

u Oh, but I hate such a way ! I have borne 
with it all my life, and I am sick of it,” she 
flashed hotly. 

“You don’t have to bear it any longer,” he 
declared confidently. “We will leave that all 
behind and begin our new life in earnest to-day.” 

Presently he succeeded in comforting her, for 
really she could have expected little else from her 
father, though she had hoped for something 
better. 

That evening they began their homeward jour- 
ney. Mona rather dreaded meeting David’s 
mother, though she would not grieve him by tell- 


THE NEW HOME 


3 01 


ing him so. When she did meet her, she was quite 
filled with awe at the stately white-haired lady, 
until the latter embraced her son’s wife saying 
very kindly, “ I have lived so long with a family 
of boys, and you can’t know how I have wished 
for a daughter in this big lonely house.” 

“ You can’t guess how I miss having a mother,” 
responded the warm-hearted girl impulsively. 

With this they became devoted companions. 
The innocent fun of the younger contrasted so 
agreeably with the sober self-repression of the 
older woman. Even David often wondered at 
their harmony, because of the great difference in 
their characters, not realizing that this very dif- 
ference made each the complement of the other. 

In due time Mona became a blessing to them 
all, for she lighted up the old house like a burst 
of sunshine. David became doubly proud of her, 
since she had won all his family to love her. His 
mother hardly wanted the girl out of her sight. 
Poor blind Hugh listened eagerly for her footsteps, 
enjoyed her jokes and coaxed her to read to him 
by the hour. Giddings wanted to follow her about 
like a faithful dog, for she always had a gentle 
word for the simple-minded fellow. 

Mona was at her best now. Nothing brought 


3° 2 


MINE INHERITANCE 


out her best qualities like being loved. She had 
never had so much love before, and finding the 
vague longings of her life satisfied, she could not 
do enough for their happiness. She became espe- 
cially fond of Hugh, and even thought a greal deal 
of Giddings, but she did not fancy Richard, al- 
though she managed to conceal this feeling quite 
cleverly. How could she be fond of him, know- 
ing as she did, from the poor old woman, of his 
treatment of David, and of the misery and distress 
he had brought upon that other confiding creature ? 
For Mona had known, after her first glance in 
Richard’s face, that he was the father of her little 
protegee off at school. 

He did not suspect for an instant, that all this 
knowledge was shut up in her busy brain, as she 
flitted about making them all gay and happy, with 
her inexhaustible fun and kindness. He loved to 
see her about, always offered her his assistance if 
he imagined that she needed it, or brought his paper 
and sat wherever she sat at her sewing, embroidery 
or music, for he, like the rest, loved to linger near 
her. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


A LONG TALK 

I T was a pleasant day in the late spring. Mona 
was busy sewing on a dainty white dress to 
send to Estelle for commencement. She did 
this regularly every year, for she remembered quite 
well how important the white commencement dress 
was to a school-girl at the close of the session. 

She was determined that this poor child, who 
had such a hard battle to fight, should have this 
one taste of luxury. 

Mona still made her clothes and wrote to her 
regularly every week, while the girl adored her 
benefactor as much as ever. She tried to dress 
Estelle sensibly, but the commencement dress was 
always a little finer than the rest, for it was the 
main gift of the year, outside of the Christmas 
box, generously packed and regularly sent some 
days before that best loved holiday. 

But this commencement dress was to surpass 
the rest, for Estelle was getting into her teens. So 
Mona spent days in making it, reveling in the 
dainty muslin ruffles, the girlish bit of lace, but 
3°3 


3°4 


MINE INHERITANCE 


most of all in the thought of how the dark-eyed 
little maid would shed tears of ecstasy over u the 
beautiful gift of dear Miss Mona.” 

Sometimes as Mona sat before the window and 
sewed, her mind wandered away to dreams of her 
own, which none but her David shared, for these 
two made great plans as they went about together, 
trying always to remember their own struggles, so 
as to carry sunshine and help wherever they went. 

So busy was she with her dreams one afternoon, 
that at times she dropped her sewing in her lap 
and looked away across the mighty river. Richard, 
the only other occupant of the room, laid aside his 
paper and leaning back in his chair thought with a 
sigh of satisfaction that this pretty sister, with her 
flushed cheeks and shining eyes, was a comfortable 
addition to the household. Presently it occurred 
to him to inquire whose dress she was making, 
since it was much too small for herself. She 
promptly took this opportunity to tell him of the 
orphan child, and succeeded in getting him quite 
interested. Presently she said, “Wait, I will 
show you her picture.” She ran lightly up to 
her room and presently returned with the picture 
in one hand, and the little old locket concealed in 
the other. 


A LONG TALK 


3°5 


She watched him keenly when she gave him the 
picture, for she fancied that the child closely re- 
sembled her mother, in the latter’s happy young 
days, before she knew poverty and degradation. 

He looked at the picture, uttered a sudden ex- 
clamation, and after gazing at it a long time he 
handed it back with a sigh, then asked, “ Did you 
say her name is Estelle ? ” 

u Yes, I think it was her mother’s name. I 
also judge she must be very much like her mother 
was before she had trouble,” answered Mona. 

He gave her a curious look, but said nothing. 
w This,” Mona presently continued, holding out 
the locket, u her mother gave me to keep for the 
child until she is grown. It is her father’s picture.” 

He stared down at his own face, as the locket 
lay in his hand, turned it over and read his own 
initials upon the back. It was a trinket he had 
given her in the brief, happy days of their court- 
ship. 

Presently it slipped from his grasp, and bowing 
his head in his hands, he gave vent to long, shud- 
dering sobs that made Mona’s heart ache with pity 
for the suffering man. 

After a time he raised his head and said, chok- 
ingly, “ Mona, I know you despise me, but, oh, 


MINE INHERITANCE 


306 

you don’t know anything about the punishment 
that weakness and self-indulgence bring.” 

“No, brother Richard, I don’t understand it,” 
she answered in a kind, sympathetic tone. 

He was quick to recognize from the change in 
her tone that she now saw his side as well as that 
of the other sufferer, and longed with all of her 
sisterly heart to help him. Instantly he took cour- 
age and poured the story of his heartache and 
misery into her ears. After he had finished he 
added sadly, “ Mona, I could never understand 
why people have so much sympathy and patience 
with the physically and mentally afflicted like 
Hugh and Giddings, and yet have nothing but 
contempt fora poor weak devil like myself. Mine 
is an affliction as well as theirs. Some ancestor is 
responsible for it, and why should I struggle, go 
down and spoil the life of a fair young creature 
like that ? I’d a thousand times rather have their 
affliction than mine,” and he buried his face in his 
hands again. 

“ Shall I tell you why, brother Richard ? ” she 
asked quietly. He nodded and she said : “ The 

fact that you can struggle against your affliction, 
shows that it is possible for you to overcome it, 
while for them there is nothing but patient endur- 


A LONG TALK 


3 °7 


ance. If the world has no sympathy for you, it is 
because you have yielded when you might have had 
the victory.” 

At this he dismally shook his head, but she con- 
tinued, 

w If you can't do it alone, there is One standing 
always ready and anxious to help you. I know 
what I am talking about. I am hot-headed and 
impulsive, but he has helped me over and over 
again. He said himself that he came not to bring 
the righteous, but sinners to repentance. While 
he was here on earth he forgave the very vilest 
people who came to him. All that was necessary 
was to seek forgiveness. Oh, if you only knew 
what a comfort it is to have his help, and how will- 
ing he is to give it ! ” 

“ Pray for me, Mona, for I do need help,” 
groaned the poor man. 

u I will be glad to do so, and, brother Richard, 
won't you read this ? '' she begged, handing him a 
little Testament, which she kept in her sewing- 
machine drawer. 

It touched him and he promised. 

She stooped and picked up the locket. Seeing 
her movement, he begged piteously, “ Mona, don’t 
ever show that thing to the poor child. Don’t tell 


MINE INHERITANCE 


308 

her the shadow that hangs over her. I will do 
everything in my power to make amends to her for 
the past.” 

ct Very well,” promised Mona, feeling that this 
was a start in the right direction. 

A few days later they completed a great plan. 
With the pretty new dress, which Mona sent to 
Estelle, went a long letter inviting the young girl to 
spend her vacation in the beautiful home which 
Mona had so often described. In the letter was a 
check, supposedly from Mona, sufficient to defray 
all expenses. Of course Mrs. Preston had been 
told of Mona’s young friend long before this, and, 
finding that Mona wished to invite her there, she 
gladly added her invitation to the rest. But of 
Richard’s interest in her, not even David yet 
knew. 

In three weeks Estelle came. In spite of her 
regular correspondence with her, Mona was sur- 
prised at the rapid improvement the girl had made. 
It was with not a little pride that she made her 
protegee acquainted with the family. 

Before the summer was over, Richard had 
adopted the charming girl. He was truly a new 
man now, for he had become a follower of Christ. 
The responsibility of raising his daughter sobered 


A LONG TALK 


309 


him even more. On the day that he adopted 
Estelle, Mona privately gave him the old locket to 
dispose of as he thought best, its mission, as far as 
she was concerned, having been fulfilled. He rode 
away to town, and returning an hour later he 
dropped the trinket, attached to a pretty new gold 
chain, into Estelle’s hand saying, u Estelle, here is 
a picture of me in my young days. You may have 
it if you care to wear it.” She thanked him, and 
clasping the chain about her neck ran to show it to 
Mona. The latter smiled through her tears, as 
she kissed the girl, saying, “ You must be a faith- 
ful daughter to him, Estelle, for he evidently loves 
you very much.” 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


THE CONCLUSION 

O NE day during the following winter there 
came a letter from Mrs. Strong urging 
them to make her a visit. She longed to 
see her boy and Mona again, as well as to get 
acquainted with his mother and rejoice with her 
over the kind Providence that had returned her son 
to her. 

The entire family was invited, but Richard, not 
deeming it wise to withdraw Estelle from school to 
take a trip for which she was quite young enough 
to wait, kindly proposed to stay at home and look 
after the house, Hugh and Giddings, but particu- 
larly Estelle. They all knew that he was very 
fond of his daughter, but could not realize how 
changed he was, until he made this offer, and they 
found that he was the w Restless Richard ” no 
longer. Everybody noticed the change in him and 
approved of his settling down, all agreeing that it 
was quite time. Estelle was devoted to him, though 
Mona would always be first in the affections of the 
3 IQ 


THE CONCLUSION 


3 11 

grateful girl. She often said, throwing her arms 
about Mona’s waist, “ Aunt Mona, I owe every- 
thing to you. How can I ever thank you ? ” To 
which Mona’s invariable reply was, “ By making 
the finest woman of yourself that it is possible for 
you to be.” 

Richard was delighted with Estelle’s develop- 
ment, and also to find how pleasant it is to live for 
some one else besides himself. He grew exceed- 
ingly kind to Martha Preston, who attributed this 
with many other blessings to the influence of her 
daughter-in-law. After a long talk with Mona 
and a full confession to David, Richard decided to 
take their advice and never tell his stepmother of 
his part in her heartaches, though he would have 
gladly relieved his conscience by so doing. 

They all three decided it was wiser not to disturb 
the peace, that had at last come into her troubled 
life, as much as such a confession from Richard 
certainly would have done. 

But to return to the visit, it was a delightful trip. 
The two older women enjoyed nothing more than 
comparing notes about the dear boy they both so 
loved. 

They petted him until Mona declared him 
spoiled beyond endurance, and Maud quite agreed 


3 12 


MINE INHERITANCE 


with her, for she could never bear a u to-do ” as she 
called it, over anybody. 

Bess and Frank also came with their two babies, 
and nothing was needed to make this happy re- 
union complete. 

Yet on their return home, Mona confided to her 
husband, one evening as she sat on his knee in their 
own room, that the happiest part of the whole 
trip was coming home. 

He embraced her with delight, saying : 

u My dear little girl, I am so glad you feel that 
way too. Here is our inheritance of work, respon- 
sibility and prosperity. We who have inherited 
eternal life must not squander too much of our 
time in idle pleasure, but must work the works of 
him who sent us while ’tis day ; and home is the 
best place for us to do the work God has given us 
to do.” 

Whereupon she sealed his words with a sure 
sign of her approval, as a good wife should all the 
nobler impulses of her husband. 

And here, in the glow of the firelight, with the 
promise of useful happy lives devoted to love and 
service, let us leave them. 


THE END 




















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